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Twilight 
Fairy Tales 


C d . U o ‘ is. ±AM7>'t£$ v Aj ) 

MAUD BALLINGTON BOOTH 

/I a 

Author of 

“ Sleepy-Time Stories ” 

“ Lights of Childland,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 


G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 
NEW YORK AND LONDON 

XTbe Tfcntcfeerbocfeer press 

1906 



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.13 loA 3 <o 5 

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LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 


OCT 26 1906 


Copyrifht Entry 

(fcA oc, 

CLASS CL XXc.i No. 

/ & & 9 93 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 1906 

BY 

MAUD BALLINGTON BOOTH 



TEbe Knickerbocker preos, IRew U?ork 


MY OWN LITTLE DAUGHTER 

MYRTLE THEODORA 


THESE STORIES ARE LOVINGLY DEDICATED 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. Geography and Tears . 

II. The Coming of Prince Fay . 

III. Roy Turns down Cross-Patch Road 

IV. Roy Gets back into the Right Path 

to Fairy-land .... 

V. Roy Meets the Princess Firelight 

VI. The Frost Prince Comes 

VII. The Visit of a Two-Eyed Child 

VIII. Roy Enters Shadow-Land 

IX. The Dream Queen’s Palace 

X. Prince Fay in Evidence again 

XI. The Song of the Blue-Bird 

XII. The Marsh King’s Concert 

XIII. New Princes are Introduced 

XIV. The Flower Babies 

XV. Roy Starts for Fairy-land . 

XVI. Wedding Bells 


PAGE 

3 

21 

43 

6i 

77 

9i 

107 

127 

145 

163 

177 

i93 

207 

231 

247 

263 


V 







ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The Lake of Peace . . . Frontispiece 


He Flung himself Impetuously on her Knee 

14 

On the Birch Log Sat a Little Figure 

26 s 

The Big Log had Taken on the Form of a 

Castle ....... 

50' 

In the Flower Stood Prince Fay 

68 / 

They Sat Together at the Edge of a Great 

Marble Fountain ..... 

84 ^ 

The Horses Floated Downward . 

102 

Roy Went out with his Sled 

Il6 

Roy Stretched out his Hands to the Hum- 
ming Birds 

146 

The Trim Little Figure Made a Most Elab- 
orate Bow 

168 

Another Little Figure had Sprung from 

BETWEEN THE OUTSPREAD WlNGS 

M 

00 

fci 

\ 


1 


VIII 


Illustrations 


They Floated away into the Moonlight . 196 

Roy Saw an Army of Busy Workers . . 212 

Within Each Flower Was the Tiniest Baby 240 

There, on a Rock beside him, Sat a Great 

White Owl ...... 258/ 

The Queen Touched the Ring with her 

Sceptre and United their Hands . . 268 / 


These illustrations are reproduced from designs by Miss Amy Carol 
Rand. 


INTRODUCTION 


T O my little friends, the children I may 
never see, but shall always love, I want 
to write a few words about the stories that I 
have here jotted down for them, and for my 
own, little, blue-eyed girl, who begged that 
this time they might be about fairies. 

Fairies! Do I believe in them? Why, of 
course I do. Take the fairies out of many 
children’s lives, and there would be such an 
over- weight of lessons and facts, that little 
eyes would grow dull, and sweet mouths, 
meant to turn up at the corners in merry 
smiles, would be pulled down and perma- 
nently spoiled. 

When people grow up, they are too tall and 
wise and busy to look for fairies in the grass 
amid the daisies and strawberry plants; and 
they think that only snakes and toads live un- 
der the moss-covered stones down by the 
stream. But children know better, and that is 


IX 


X 


Introduction 


why they have such fun in the woods and love 
the fields and flowers; and can spend hours 
playing and frolicking with nothing, as grown- 
up people think; when those same dull people 
would not be happy without a book to read 
or a grown-up companion to talk to. 

I remember the days when I was not too 
big to love the fairies and play with them in 
the sunshine ; and I think they have been 
whispering to me again, and perhaps some 
little fellow is riding on my pencil as I write, 
and helping to guide it; though of course I 
can’t see them any more, for I am one of the 
grown-ups now. 

These stories are being written as I travel 
over the mountains, across wide prairies, 
through the desert, and off to the wide Pacific 
coast ; back over the Sierra and Cascade Moun- 
tains; by the shining snows of Mount Hood, 
and the mighty, white pile called Mount 
Rainier ; through great, dark valleys, where the 
train creeps between grey rocks; close to some 
deep, green river; out onto the Bad Lands; and 
then in time down past the Great Lakes, and 


Introduction 


XI 


over the country back to the dear, little home 
I love so well. 

By that time the book must be finished ; and 
if my little daughter says it will do, I will 
send it out to the dear, little readers all over 
our great country, who will accept and under- 
stand it. I write it for them; not for the 
grown-ups ; and if it cheers them through some 
rainy days, or brightens hours in the sick 
room, I shall feel well repaid for the time that 
I have spent writing down the whispers of my 
one-time fairy friends. 


Maud B. Booth. 





CHAPTER I 


GEOGRAPHY AND TEARS 

T here was certainly a fascinating view 
from the nursery window if one liked 
wintry scenery. The great dark fir trees and 
spruce bushes that bordered the lawn were 
heavily draped in fleecy whiteness. The 
branches of oaks and maples shone and glit- 
tered with icy particles, and the pure white 
carpet which overspread the lawn itself was 
like the icing on a wedding-cake. There 
seemed to be snow enough already, and yet 
the clouds had just dispatched a hurrying 
flurry of velvety white couriers to tell of the 
coming of another storm; and the ever-in- 
creasing number of these flakes had caught 
and held, in absent-minded interest, the big 
grey eyes of a seven-year-old boy, who at that 
moment should have had those same bright 
eyes on his teacher and his mind engrossed 


3 


4 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


with the geographical description of distant 
states, instead of viewing the limited little bit 
of America that could be seen from the 
window. 

“ Nearly all the cotton of this kind is now 
raised on the mainland in southern Georgia 
and northern Florida, as well as in South 
Carolina. Much of it is sent to England, to 
be woven into fine cloth. Much of the Texas 
cotton is shipped from Galveston. A large 
part of the other grades of cotton, raised 
farther inland, is shipped from Savannah.” 
At this point in her reading, Miss Sloane 
glanced up and caught the far-away look in the 
grey eyes. She guessed that she had been 
reading to deaf ears. “ What is the chief 
product of southern Georgia, Roy? ” There 
was no answer. “ Roy, what is the chief 
product? ” “ Snow.” The answer was whis- 

pered in an absent tone as Roy slightly 
changed his position to catch sight of the gira- 
tions of an extra big flake, that seemed to be 
dancing a new step of its own amid its earth- 
ward drifting companions. 


Geography and Tears 


5 


Down went Miss Sloane’s book with a bang 
that made Roy jump, and a gesture of de- 
spair brought him suddenly back to the school- 
room, lessons, and a realisation of his own 
wandering little mind. “ Oh ! I am sorry, 
Miss Sloane ; I don ’t quite know what you 
asked.” “Don’t quite know, Roy; I should 
think not. You don’t know a word of it. 
Here I have been reading your lesson to you 
and doing my best to make it clear, and you 
have been wool-gathering again.” “ It was n’t 
wool; it was snow,” interposed Roy, with no 
intention of being impertinent, but with a 
vague idea that snow was such a pretty, fas- 
cinating thing that it might appear a natural 
temptation and the thought of it mitigate his 
off ence. * m 

“ Don’t answer me, sir. You are trying 
enough with your wandering thoughts and 
carelessness over lessons, without adding to 
it rudeness as well. I shall keep you in, and 
as punishment you can write out this whole les- 
son five times, and I shall tell your father all 
about it, for I cannot and will not overlook 


6 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


this repeated inattention, which is most disre- 
spectful as well as dishonourable.” 

The indignant governess had arisen, and 
colour was slowly flushing her ordinarily pale 
cheeks, for as a rule Miss Sloane was not angry 
to the point of “ a row.” Roy looked be- 
wildered during the first part of her lecture, 
for he had hardly come out of his brown study, 
and had the dazed feeling that he had only 
just returned to the nursery and the company 
of his teacher. When she reached the word 
“dishonourable,” however, she touched a tender 
spot, and the child winced, while tears gathered 
in the big grey eyes. “ I ’m not; I ’m not; 
I ’m not dishonourable. I did n’t mean it. 
You know I did n’t, and I have not lied or 
cheated or been mean, or what mother would 
call naughty. You are unkind, and I shall 
tell mother.” “You can tell your mother 
what you choose, and so shall I. It is dis- 
honourable to waste the hours of teaching for 
which your parents pay, and to be inattentive 
when you are supposed to be working. I 
shall certainly stand no more of this, for it is 


Geography and Tears 


7 


a daily occurrence now ; and it is time you were 
made to concentrate your mind on work, in- 
stead of living in a foolish dreamland of your 
own.” 

Tears were flowing from the big grey eyes 
as Miss Sloane put on her hat and coat and 
gathered up her belongings as a sign of de- 
parture; and when the door shut with a bang 
behind her, Roy laid his disconsolate httle head 
on the hated geography book and wailed aloud. 
He certainly had come back from the land of 
dreams to a very real land of painful facts. 
He was in disgrace; he must work on alone, 
instead of being free on the departure of his 
teacher to go and play or to dream by the 
fire until tea-time. 

Father and mother were reading in the li- 
brary together, when Miss Sloane descended 
upon them, fresh from the scene with Roy, 
her indignation still ablaze over his listless dis- 
regard of study. In an avalanche of words 
she told of his misdeeds, the careless work, the 
straying thoughts, the constant drudgery of 
dinning into his little head, facts for which he 


8 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


showed not a particle of interest. 

Mother promised to help her mend Roy’s 
ways, and father seemed inclined to think the 
boy’s offences were rather natural at his age, 
which did not soothe Miss Sloane’s ruffled 
spirits. “ Well, his manner and unsatisfac- 
tory work are very trying to me, Mr. Ford- 
ham, and for my part I could put up better 
with fits of temper or mischief, or even occas- 
sional sulkiness; for as it is my time seems to 
be absolutely thrown away. Roy seems to live 
in a calm, happy, distant world of dreams, 
from which I can only rouse him by punish- 
ment, and it makes the schoolroom a constant 
battle-ground.” “We will help you, Miss 
Sloane,” said Mr. Fordham reassuringly. “ I 
did not realise Roy had tried you so sorely. 
The boy has many splendid traits of mind and 
heart, to which you can appeal, and I think 
his mother will bring about a change in his 
work by showing him how much she feels his 
carelessness.” 

As Miss Sloane shut the front door and 
tramped off through the snow, Roy’s father 


Geography and Tears 


9 


looked over at mother’s troubled face, and with 
raised eyebrows murmured, “ Poor little 
chap.” Then, as the logs crackled and the 
snow-flakes scurried noiselessly about the win- 
dow, there was a long, earnest, anxious talk 
about the little son upstairs, who was so dear 
to them, so sweet and tender and good in many 
ways, and yet so difficult to harness down to 
school work and interest in such necessary 
things as history and geography, grammar 
and arithmetic, and all the many studies that 
have to be grasped and remembered by little 
minds. 

Roy Fordham was the baby of the family. 
His big brothers were at school. His sisters 
were out of the nursery and schoolroom before 
he came to crow and laugh in the little blue- 
ribboned cradle. To all of them he was a 
baby still, though the golden curls had long 
since been shorn, and he had already forgotten 
that he once wore white dresses and played 
with woolly lambs and other delights of the 
toddling age. The big boys romped with and 
teased him, the girls petted ; and mother — well 


io Twilight Fairy Tales 

she just loved him and loved him as mothers 
especially will a baby; and father, busy, happy, 
jolly father, took him as a sort of joke, never 
wanted to see him cry, and hardly seemed to 
remember that he was growing up. 

His short life had been a summer dream, 
until mother realised her baby did not know 
as much as he ought to, and dear old Made- 
moiselle, his nurse, governess, and playmate all 
in one, had given up her place to Miss Sloane, 
and hours in the schoolroom with books and 
books and yet more books came into his poor 
little life. It is hardly right to say “ poor little 
life,” for his life ought to have been much the 
richer for these things; but the trouble was he 
did n’t appreciate the riches of education and 
the treasures of learning which are so locked 
up sometimes in hard, dreary facts, that little 
minds have to work hal'd to find them. 

There were two great, wide, wonderful 
fields that he loved, and loved intensely, for 
his was not a careless, lazy little brain, as Miss 
Sloane seemed to think. It was not quick at 
storing away the knowledge she had to give, 


Geography and Tears n 

but that was not because it was empty, but 
rather from the fact that it was too full of 
fancies and dreams, very pretty and bright 
and wonderful, though they could not be 
found on maps or understood by rules in 
arithmetic. 

The two fields he loved to explore were na- 
ture and fairy-land, and somehow they seemed 
very often to merge into one. In spring and 
summer, eveiy bud and flower was his treasure, 
to be sought and loved, watched over and en- 
joyed. For hours he would waste his time, 
as Miss Sloane would have put it, watching the 
birds, laughing over the queer antics of in- 
sects, or gazing at the cloud ships that sailed 
the blue sky, and the mountains and castles of 
vapour, gilded and glorified by the setting 
sun. 

All this mother rejoiced in at the right time, 
but now the little colt who had galloped 
through the daisies and clover and gloried in 
freedom, had to be harnessed and mentally 
“ broken in.” The fact that the harnessing 
process was so hard and meant so many tears 


12 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


and so much sorrow was making mother’s 
heart ache too. The dreamy, absent-minded- 
ness of the child was a puzzle to her, until she 
found how fairy lore had acted on his busy 
little brain. Perhaps Mademoiselle was some- 
what to blame. She loved to tell her chere 
bebe all the tales that French, German, and 
English wanderers into fairy-land had gath- 
ered together for the delight and wonder of 
the dwellers in child-land. Under the trees in 
summer, the tales of elves and nymphs, of 
princes and princesses had mingled with the 
song of birds and glint of sunshine, until they 
had become to him inseparable from nature. 
The merry, gauzy little people who danced in 
the moonlight, the elves on mischief bent, and 
the good and bad fairies, who wove spells 
about the princeling cradles and helped wan- 
dering children to the castles hidden in forest 
labyrinths, were all very real to him, and he 
was ever waiting, looking, longing, and ex- 
pecting to have his eyes opened on this en- 
chanted world which he felt was so near and 
yet hidden from his sight. 


Geography and Tears 


13 


The fact that his brothers and sisters were 
all so much older had left him to play his own 
games, weave his own fancies, and live in a 
little world apart from theirs, even in the 
midst of those who filled his life with comfort 
and pleasure and love, yet were not children 
enough to tread the same enchanted paths and 
weave the same fancies in the firelight. 

“ Don’t worry, mother,” said Mr. Fordham 
reassuringly, “ it will all come right; our baby 
will wake up some day and learn fast enough. 
He is on the border-land now, spending his 
time between the land of c maybe ’ and the 
land of ‘ is,’ and I don ’t wonder the com- 
monplace, work-a-day, lesson-learning world 
proves dull and stupid to his little 
mind. Don ’t forget he comes from story- 
weaving stock, with a father and grandfather 
and other illustrious penmen and penwomen 
flourishing on the family tree. This young 
bud must naturally develop a vivid imagina- 
tion and a dream-loving fancy.” 

Mother dried her tears. She did shed some 
sometimes when only father was there to see; 


H 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


and kissing her comforter on the brow, she left 
the room to go and see how little Roy was 
bearing his trials in the schoolroom. The 
short afternoon had closed in. The room was 
filled with gloomy shadows. The window- 
seat, however, was still light, for the whiteness 
outside seemed to hold the lingering daylight 
and cast it back into the room in a pale 
ghostly gleam. The distant horizon behind the 
snow-clad firs and big, bare oaks, showed the 
coppery tints of the after-glow, while the dis- 
tant electric lights of the great city, twenty 
miles away, scintillated, gleamed, and twinkled 
like a myriad merry eyes. 

It was in the window-seat that mother found 
her darling, a quiet, solemn, woe-begone little 
heap. So still was he that she thought he had 
fallen asleep; but on feeling her arms around 
him, he flung himself impetuously on her knee, 
and poured out the story of his woes, with all 
the bitterness and despair of a child’s sorrow. 
He had not meant to be naughty; he really 
had not. He forgot the lesson; it was so dry, 






Geography and Tears 


i5 


and as he watched the snow he wondered if 
each lovely fleeting flake were ridden by a little 
elf or fairy that he could not see. Then he 
began to recall the story of the Snow Queen, 
and wondered if she would come from her glit- 
tering icy palace on the white wings of the 
storm. 

When Miss Sloane called him back by her 
question, he had really not understood, and 
thought she wanted to know what he was 
thinking of. Of course he knew it was cot- 
ton, not snow, that grew down South, but 
“Oh! mother,” he burst out, “why must I 
learn about all those stupid things? I just 
hate lessons. They make my head ache, and 
then, when I ’ve learned them, they won ’t stay 
learned. There are so much nicer things to 
know and think about, and I don’t see what 
good these things will ever be to me. When 
I grow up I ’ll just write books like father, 
and never bother about the cotton or sugar- 
cane, the iron in the mountains, or other dull, 
uninteresting things I ’ll never think then 


i6 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


about the wretched sums that won ’t come 
right however hard I try to add the sense- 
less figures up.” 

This outburst gave mother her chance. She 
tried to show Roy, patiently and lovingly, that 
father could never have been the man he was, 
could never have written books and done things 
if he had not kept his mind on dull lessons 
when he was a little boy. “ But, my darling,” 
she added, “ you must really try to keep your 
thoughts from wandering, for mother’s sake, 
for it grieves her dreadfully to hear such bad 
reports from Miss Sloane. Father says you 
live too much in the land of ‘ maybe,’ where 
you think that there are fairies and elves 
around us that we cannot see; but he believes 
with me that our little boy must keep his 
dreams for play-hours and try to settle down 
to all the hard, dull facts in the land of ‘ is.’ ” 

“ I don’t like the land of ‘ is ’, mother. It 
is full of things on maps and things in books, 
and numbers and figures, for Miss Sloane is 
always saying ‘ is ’ and 4 are ’ and talking of 
‘ facts ’ ; and when I told her once that I be- 


Geography and Tears 


1 7 


lieved if we could look in the right way we 
could see into fairy-land, just as we can make 
out figures in shadow pictures, she said, 4 Non- 
sense.’ ” 

4 4 Well, my boy, you will have to learn all 
about the busy world in which father and 
mother live,” said his mother, stroking the 
wavy hair and kissing the white brow, 44 and 
if you ever find your fairies, I hope they will 
be the busy, useful, sensible ones, who will 
teach you good, useful things, for mother 
counts on her baby boy to be her blessing and 
comfort in the future, as he has been in his 
baby days.” 

When the lights were lit, the sheets of white 
paper that bore the laborious writing of the 
punishment task were found to be very much 
blotted with tears, and the book from which 
the lines were copied decidedly the worse for 
weajr. 

The next day, fortunately, was Saturday, 
and that meant no lessons and no Miss Sloane. 
So with brisker manner, and a face from 
which the clouds were passing, Roy gathered 

2 


18 Twilight Fairy Tales 

up books and papers and put them out of 
sight. Then, closing the door of the room in 
which all his woes and struggles centred, he 
scampered down to the cheery glow of the li- 
brary fire. 





CHAPTER II 


THE COMING OF PRINCE FAY 

T ESSONS had gone better for a week. 

Miss Sloane was always more amiable 
after a crisis. Much as a good, sharp thunder- 
storm clears the atmosphere, so the grow- 
ing tension in the nursery had led to the 
“ row,” as Roy slangily described it; and af- 
terwards peace reigned. Then, Roy himself 
was really trying very hard to do well. The 
words “ For mother’s sake ” had a great in- 
fluence in his little life, and while he remem- 
bered, he did try to keep his mind on his work 
so that she might be gladdened by good re- 
ports, and the dear eyes that he had seen tear- 
ful might be bright with pleasure, and smile 
on him in a way that would warm his little 
heart. 

Of course he still looked for fairies in play- 
hours, and went to sleep weaving stories of the 
wonderful land they peopled, but he succeeded 


21 


22 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


in keeping them out of his mind when his 
thoughts had to travel the straight matter-of- 
fact roads laid out by historians and geogra- 
phers, or climb the steep stairs of the 
multiplication table, bounded by addition, 
division, and subtraction. 

On a certain chilly evening, after an es- 
pecially good day, he was stretched out full 
length on the library rug, watching the crack- 
ling logs and enjoying the comfortable 
warmth. He was thoroughly contented and 
happy, for it had been a good day ; and he had 
had his mother all to himself for the past two 
hours, so it had given them time for several 
chapters of the book through which little folks 
can wander with Mr. Long by lake and stream, 
over barren or through the wooded glades of 
the forest. As the logs crackled and sput- 
tered, he was thinking how he would like to be 
like little Chickadee, whose cheery note and 
merry ways bring the gladness of spring to 
all who see his funny, pirouetting little body, 
or watch his sharp eyes as they look confid- 
ingly at his human friends. 


The Coming of Prince Fay 23 

The door opened and mother held out her 
arms to say good-night. She was going out 
to dinner, so the good-night kiss could not be 
given after he was tucked away in his little 
bed. “ Good-night, my little Chickadee,” she 
said, kissing the top of his head as he nestled 
in her arms, burying his nose in the big bunch 
of violets on her breast, “ you can stay up an 
extra half-hour, and then let Christine give 
you your bath and tuck you up in your little 
nest, and of course mother will kiss you again 
when she comes in, though you will be fast 
asleep and will not know it.” 

] Roy watched the sleigh drive away over the 
deep, hard snow, listening at the window to 
the crunch of the horses’ hoofs and the tinkle 
of the bells until stillness reigned again. A 
great silver moon shone down upon the white 
expanse of lawn, and the glitter of frost crys- 
tals scintillated on the trees, bushes, and win- 
dow-pane. A little chilly draught came in 
through the window, however, and the warmth 
of the fire invited him back to the rug. 

Some hours of very energetic coasting after 


24 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


school had made him comfortably tired, and 
now the stillness of the room, the warmth of 
the blaze, and the rythmic ticking of the clock 
soothed him to drowsiness. He was on the 
border-land of dreams, and might have 
entered it in a few more moments, had not an 
unusual sound aroused him. He sat up and 
listened. Was it only the singing of a damp 
fragment of the log, yielding itself reluctantly 
to the flames? No, no heating process had 
ever or could ever bring forth those silvery 
tones, for they were the distinct notes of a 
bugle call. 

Roy’s eager little eyes, now quickly cleared 
from the mists of sleep, searched every nook 
and corner around the fire. He had just be- 
gun an examination of the logs piled in the 
wood-box, when the call sounded again, this 
time unmistakably nearer, so that it assured 
him that he was very near the solving of the 
mystery. The top log was a piece of silvery 
white birch, with some moss still clinging to 
it, and a hole stretching some way into the in- 
terior just at the place where it had been sawn 


The Coming of Prince Fay 25 


off. It looked as if the hatchet or saw had 
struck into the middle of a squirrel’s or wood- 
pecker’s home, the larger part of which must 
be found in the corresponding log. 

Into the hollow Roy stuck an inquiring 
finger, and brought out a small, hard object 
that he laid on his palm and examined in the 
glow of the firelight. Could his eyes be de- 
ceiving him? Was it really what it seemed? 
Tiny as it was, it gleamed in iridescent green 
and gold, like the wing-case of the diamond 
beetle; and it was unmistakably a perfectly 
fashioned little shoe. There could be not a 
moment’s doubt that it was a fairy make and 
of fairy possession. 

With a thrill of intense excitement, Roy 
peeped into the wood-box again. Was the 
other part of the log there? Of course, if the 
fairy’s shoe was found in the smaller half of 
the hole, the fairy prince or elf or brownie 
must be in the larger end, and this was per- 
haps the explanation of the silvery bugle call. 
Carefully Roy removed the upper logs until 
he reached one near the bottom of the box that 


26 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


showed the white bark of the birch. There 
could be no doubt that this was the missing 
half, for the hatchet marks corresponded and 
so did the white and black grain on the 
bark. 

On looking closer, he could see the dark 
entrance to the hole that had once been the 
home of some feathered or furry family. 
Anxious as he was to solve the mystery, Roy 
had not the courage to slip his fingers into the 
hole. It would be such a bitter disappoint- 
ment to find nothing after this wonderful hope 
had been awakened, and he seemed on the 
verge of the mysterious land of “ maybe.” If, 
on the other hand, a fairy was really hidden 
there, it would be almost as bad to explore 
blindly into his hiding place, for it would be 
almost an insult to pull him out as you would 
a crab from the rocks or a frog from the marsh 
weeds. The best plan was to await results, so 
Roy piled all the logs back, put the treasure 
log on top, where the red glow of the firelight 
could play on it, and then he sat down to watch, 







































































































Mi 





































































































The Coming of Prince Fay 27 

holding the dainty, gleaming shoe carefully 
in the palm of his little hand for fear of injur- 
ing it. 

The minutes ticked away and nothing hap- 
pened. Roy sighed deeply and looked from 
the log to study the face of the clock to see 
how much more time he had before he would 
be called to bed. When he looked back again, 
he caught his breath with a gasp of surprise, 
for there on the silvery birch log, with his face 
turned to the fire, sat a little figure dressed in 
green velvet, with a tiny cap of the same ma- 
terial, no bigger than an acorn cup, in which 
was daintily pinned the brightest feather from 
a humming bird’s breast. 

The little fairy sat with knees crossed, look- 
ing passively into the dancing flames, and 
nursing in one hand the shoeless foot, which 
was encased in a tiny red silk stocking. The 
velvet hunting coat that fell gracefully back 
from the shoulders was lined with crimson silk 
and held in place by a pin that gleamed with 
the unmistakable red fire of the ruby. At the 


28 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


belt was a silver bugle, which explained the 
call that at first aroused Roy to the presence 
of his unexpected guest. 

“ Hard luck,” sighed the fairy, still gazing 
at the fire and talking apparently to himself; 
“ bad enough to get into a hole like that for a 
long, lazy winter sleep, as if I were a hiber- 
nating animal; but to come so near being cast 
into that mass of flames and smoke would be 
out of the frying-pan into the fire with a ven- 
geance.” 

“ But fairies cannot burn, can they? ” ex- 
claimed Roy, quite forgetting in his interest 
that the little figure in green had not ad- 
dressed him, or even seemed to notice him. 

The fairy turned quickly, disclosing a bright, 
merry, earnest face, crowned with sunny au- 
burn curls. For some moments the question 
was unanswered, while the fairy’s eyes read 
Roy’s face with the keenest interest, and then 
with a ringing laugh he said : “ So you can see 
and hear and understand me at last. That is 
a clear sign, little Roy, that you have not 
been looking for fairy-land or fairy folk of 


The Coming of Prince Fay 29 


late.” Roy was surprised beyond measure at 
being addressed by name, and only one word 
could find its way to his lips — “ Why? ” 

“ Why? ” echoed the fairy, “ that ’s a little 
word, but it could call forth a very long an- 
swer. I 11 begin with your first question. No, 
fairies don’t burn, but they can change, and 
I don’t want to. If I had tumbled out of 
that hole into the snow and been frozen, I 
should have become a frost fairy. If you had 
thrown the log into the fire while I was asleep, 
I should have become a fire fairy, like those 
there who keep dancing in and out of that 
great red chasm in the burning log.” 

Sure enough, as Roy followed the direction 
of the pointing fairy finger, he saw in the 
glowing cave of light some graceful dancing 
figures. They were small, hazy and indis- 
tinct, and their clothing seemed to be of flimsy 
blue and purple, rose colour or yellow, with here 
and there an intense shade of green. With 
fascinated eyes, he watched them in their 
merry play, and almost forgot his guest, until 
recalled by his silvery voice asking patiently, 


30 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


“ Now are you ready for my second answer? ” 

“Yes, indeed, but I don’t understand how 
it is. I have watched the fire so often and 
have never seen the fire fairies before.” 

“ That really comes after the question 
‘ Why ? 5 but, Roy, I ’ll answer it first. You 
could not see the fire fairies until I showed 
them to you, and you could not see me while 
you looked for me. The land of 4 maybe ’ is 
so near the land of 4 is ’ that the only way to 
find the first is by giving your mind and heart 
and thought to the second. You must have 
been especially good and studied hard and 
have kept your mind on one thing at a time 
lately, or you never would have seen me to- 
night. Why, all last summer I watched you, 
and laughed to myself when I heard you sigh 
and worry because you could not find us. I 
saw you go hunting around among the ferns 
and flowers for the land which you could not 
possibly discover that way.” 

44 Well, please tell me plainly, so I will never 
forget, how can I find fairy-land whenever I 
want to?” asked Roy earnestly, for this was 


The Coming of Prince Fay 3 1 

perhaps his only chance to find and hold the 
secret. 

“First, never look for it; second, be very 
faithful to the things you ought to do, and 
then, if you love the fairies and they love 
you, perhaps all of a sudden you may see them 
and share with them the sunny hours in the 
world they people.” 

“ I shall remember,” said Roy, very thought- 
fully, after he had sat some time thinking out 
the answer to his question ; and then he added, 
“ May I know your name, and would you like 
to have your shoe? ” 

“ My dear Roy, never ask two questions in 
one breath. It muddles the brain and spoils 
the answer,” replied his guest, lying down on 
the silvery log, with his head pillowed on his 
arm in a graceful, easy attitude, as if he 
were thoroughly at home and greatly enjoyed 
the warmth of the fire. After a pause he 
added : 

“Yes, put on my shoe for me; I may get 
chilblains, because you see my toes must have 
been pretty cold these last days, and now the 


32 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


fire is waking them up and making them 
tingle/’ It was with some difficulty that Roy 
adjusted the tiny shoe, for his fingers felt 
dreadfully big and clumsy, but when it was 
accomplished he settled himself close to his 
new friend and waited for more information. 

“ My name is Prince Fay, and as we are 
certainly going to see a great deal of each 
other in future, I will tell you a little more 
about myself than you could guess, even with 
that story- weaving brain of yours.” 

“ How do you know I love stories? ” inter- 
rupted Roy. 

“ Why, I can read that in your eyes, and fair- 
ies can read the stories there as you think them, 
and I have often laughed, when I have sat by 
you on the lawn or swung with you in the ham- 
mock, at the castles you built in the air and 
the lazy, flimsy, gauzy fairies, elves and pixies 
with which you peopled them. I am glad you 
never found the foolish fairy-land of your 
dreams, because it was the land of ‘ could n’t 
be ’ and 4 should n’t be,’ and there you could 
only have been a very lazy, unhappy boy.” 


The Coming of Prince Fay 33 

Roy looked decidedly annoyed. He thought 
it rude of one almost a stranger to criticise 
thus, and very impertinent indeed to read 
dreams that were not thought out for his en- 
tertainment. “ I do not like fairies who find 
fault and criticise, and I shall not like your 
fairy -/land, because it must be dull, and I 
would n’t be at all surprised to hear that you 
learn lessons there too.” Prince Fay laughed 
good-naturedly at Roy’s rather cross little 
speech. 

“ Of course we learn lessons. Life would 
not be worth living if we did not learn some- 
thing all the time. Why, for example, think 
of the lesson I have learned. I only got 
through just in time or I might have been 
made into a flimsy, flamey fire fairy. But I ’ll 
begin again where you interrupted me. I was 
born in the trumpet-flower vine. I am 
trumpeter to the Queen, and so are all the 
members of my family. If you knew any- 
thing about fairies, you might have guessed 
that at sight of my green and red livery, which 
shows the colours of the flower of my birth, 


3 


34 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


and the humming bird’s feather is from the 
breast of my dear little steed.” 

“Horses with feathers! I never heard of 
such a thing,” exclaimed Roy, who was not 
quite willing to credit Fay’s statements 
where they did not agree with Grimm and 
Hans Andersen, his great authorities on fairy 
lore. 

“ I did not say ‘ horses.’ That name does not 
suit a humming-bird, though he is one of the 
swiftest and longest-flying birds, and we 
trumpet-flower fairies always ride him by 
day, using the moth by night when he is 
resting.” 

“I thought fairies had wings; they often 
have in the picture books,” sighed Roy, who 
felt as if his fairy education needed a good 
deal of revising to bring it up to date. 

“ No, we don’t need wings, and if you are 
to learn anything in our world, you must for- 
get the books and pictures you have read and 
seen. Hans Andersen was a lover of fairies 
no doubt, and old Mr. Grimm may have been 
all right, but Germany and England aren’t 


The Coming of Prince Fay 35 


America, and we can’t be supposed to do 
things as they did over there; and besides, you 
must remember that your mother, and per- 
haps your mother’s mother, read those same 
stories, so they were about real old-fashioned 
fairies, who did things in a very foreign, out- 
of-date way, and you cannot judge up-to-date 
fairies from their standpoint.” 

Roy saw the force of his argument, and 
begged Fay to take up the thread of his own 
story again. “ Well,” continued the Prince, 
taking off his cap and examining the feather 
and the jewelled brooch that held it in place 
and shot red lights from the gleam of the fire, 
“ you must know that every flower has its 
fairy. At the opening of each bud, a new 
fairy is born, and the colours of their clothing 
must suit the colour of the flower. If you have 
learned about nature, you will know that each 
caterpillar has its own plant or bush or tree, 
and that the butterfly or moth hovers around 
it after it has come out, a beautiful winged 
creature, from its ugly little grub-case. But, 
Roy, the naturalists do not know why; they 


36 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


don’t understand that those are the fairy steeds 
that attend on and carry the little people who 
own the flowers. Why, it is part of our work 
to open the chrysalis and groom those butter- 
flies when they first come out, and we see to 
it that they serve us faithfully afterwards.” 

“ But you said you rode on the humming 
birds,” interrupted Roy, anxious if possible to 
catch Prince Fay in an error. 

“Yes, of course; that is because the ruby- 
throated humming-bird is so fond of our 
flower, and he builds his nest away up in the 
vine, and we help watch the young, and in re- 
turn he is very willing to be of use to us. You 
must know that the birds and the fairies are 
very closely allied, or else how could the sum- 
mer fairies get away before winter? ” 

“ Get away? Why, where do they go to? ” 
asked Roy with wide-open eyes. 

“ Why, South of course. We leave the 
world to the snow fairies and frost sprites, and 
go to where the flowers are blooming.” 

“ But you could not ride all that way on the 
tiny humming-bird, that does n’t look much 


The Comiug of Prince Fay 37 

bigger than a bumble bee,” exclaimed the little 
listener. 

Prince F ay uncrossed his legs, and rising on 
one elbow said impressively, with a raised fore- 
finger that looked almost ridiculous, it was so 
very small : “ That ’s where you have to learn. 
Your fairy-land lessons begin early, young 
man, though you must not think they are not 
true because weary humans with no imagina- 
tion call them nonsense. I see you never heard 
that the little ruby-throated humming-bird 
travels from Central America to Labrador 
and back every year, in its incessantly active 
little life. Its outstretched wings measure 
barely two inches across, which seems to you 
big clumsy mortals very little ; but in its 
brightly jewelled little body lives a force that 
propels it through the air at a speed and height 
which take it instantly beyond the range of 
human vision.” 

Roy yawned. It was very rude, but then 
it was past bedtime, and he thought Prince 
Fay was getting away from the point of his 
story; besides, the allusion to Central America 


33 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


and Labrador savoured of geography. His 
guest was not at all offended, but laughed 
brightly and said: “ Roy, I think I will finish 
my much interrupted story to-morrow ; but now 
I wonder where I can live. I ’m a flower fairy, 
and my own special flower is only a hard, bare, 
leafless plant just now, covered with ice and 
snow, while my Queen and all her attend- 
ants are away in the South; so you must give 
me a home. If you put me in the fire, I 
should have to be a fire fairy; out of window, 
I should be frozen into a frost elf, and I 
should be very unhappy locked into the cup- 
board or set up on the mantel-piece. What 
can you suggest, little friend? ” 

Roy thought for a moment, and then his 
face brightened. “ Why, I have it; I ’ll take 
you to the greenhouse, and if the gardener or 
any one else comes, you can hide, and I ’m sure 
it will be warm and cozy in the flowers.” The 
Prince accepted at once, but assured his little 
friend that he did not worry about any of the 
mortals who might come or go, for they would 
never see him. It was only to children beloved 


The Coming of Prince Fay 39 

of fairies and fairy-loving that he could ever 
become visible. 

Holding out his hand, Roy helped Prince 
Fay to his shoulder, and together they passed 
into the dark, desolate drawing-room, out of 
which a glass door led to the conservatory. 
Roy entered the room bravely, and then as 
the shadows closed round him, making the fur- 
niture look strange and ghostly, he halted. 
“ Afraid? ” whispered the fairy, with a cheery 
laugh, “ I ’ll help you. We know more of 
electricity than those good Hans Andersen 
fairies.” So saying, Prince Fay drew a little 
jewel-hilted sword, and by some mysterious 
process a bright light blazed from it. 

Roy saw his way easily to the conservatory 
and unlocked the door, passing into the white, 
damp, scent-laden air. Flowers gleamed pale 
and mysterious in the light, and the whole 
place looked as never before to the boy’s won- 
dering eyes. Springing from his shoulder to 
a small orange tree, fragrant with white blos- 
som, Prince Fay waved his hand imperatively 
in farewell, saying, “ Hurry back, for your 


40 Twilight Fairy Tales 

nurse is calling you, and it is long past bed- 
time.” 

Roy turned to listen, and when he looked 
back to the blossoming branch on which he 
had left Prince Fay, the tiny figure had van- 
ished and only the swaying of the blossoms 
showed that some one had been there. 





ft 


CHAPTER III 


HOY TURNS DOWN CROSS-PATCH ROAD 

S OMETIMES, after a glorious day, we 
go to bed with a last happy look at a 
star-bespangled sky, only to rise the next morn- 
ing and find rain rattling against the window- 
pane, snow hurling a white flurry around the 
shivering trees, or a damp, dismal fog shutting 
out the view and proving a very effectual wet 
blanket to any attempt at high spirits. This 
was not literally Roy’s experience on the fol- 
lowing day, for the weather out-of-doors was 
fine enough, but his happy yesterday was, 
alas, followed by a to-day in which storm and 
fog and all the other dismal combinations of 
atmospheric disturbances were to find their 
counterparts in his own little heart and life. 

There is an old saying, which everybody 
knows, about getting out of bed the wrong 
side, and it became clear to the whole household 
that Roy had chosen that side, if there was 

43 


44 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


such a one to his pretty little white bed. 
Mother said her darling had been up too late 
the night before, which statement he contra- 
dicted in a tone that made her face sad and 
solemn. Nurse remarked that he was cross 
because he had overslept, and he angrily told 
her that was her fault, for it was her place to 
wake him. 

When he reached the breakfast table, where 
the family had begun without him, his big 
brother called him “ shock-headed Peter,” be- 
cause he had brushed his hair in too careless 
a hurry; while his oldest sister, who seemed to 
him gifted in asking awkward and ill-timed 
questions, inquired if he had remembered to 
clean his teeth. His father tried to pour oil 
on the troubled waters by saying there could 
not be much the matter, for his appetite was 
certainly unimpaired, at which, out of sheer 
perversity, he complained that his porridge was 
burned, he hated eggs, and the coffee was 
nasty, a word which he knew his mother very 
much disliked and had strictly forbidden him 
to use. 


Down Cross-patch Road 


45 


Realising that it was a clear case of cross- 
ness, and that all the world would seem at 
sixes and sevens to him until it wore off, his 
family with one accord ignored him, and the 
breakfast went cheerfully on, despite the one 
little clouded face and grumbling voice that 
tried hard to make a note of discord in the 
harmony of the home. 

If Roy was ill-humoured in the dining-room, 
it was natural that the schoolroom should take 
on a more gloomy look, and the very atmos- 
phere seemed charged with warnings of 
trouble to come. As he arranged his books 
and pens and other working materials, he said 
to himself that he knew Miss Sloane would 
be more aggravating than ever, and that he 
did not see any use in stupid lessons anyhow. 
Poor Roy! this was a sorry failure after all 
those valiant efforts to be good and faithful, 
to win success and happiness by earnest 
application. 

How is it these reactions come after good 
spells? Why cannot we just naturally keep 
on being good the way we start out? Perhaps 


46 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


it is because the sentinel on guard begins to 
think there are no enemies to watch against. 

To Miss Sloane’s credit, be it said, she was 
remarkably good-natured that day, and any 
little boy who did not deliberately want a 
“ row ” would have gotten along famously 
with her. She called him “ Roy, dear,” instead 
of “Roy!” When he assured her persist- 
ently that eight times seven made sixty-four, 
she calmly said, “ Try again, dear, you will 
soon remember.” This mildness, I am sorry 
to report, he met by a tirade against lesson- 
learning in general, and this day’s lessons 
in particular, which he described by the mal- 
apropos epithet of “ vile,” a word again which 
was not allowed by either mother or governess 
in any such relation. The fact was, he was 
angry with Miss Sloane for being nice to him. 
He wanted an excuse for a fuss, and as it 
takes two to make a satisfactory quarrel, her 
persistent mildness made him more angry and 
irritable. 

The worst morning will, however, come to 
an end, and when Miss Sloane departed, worn 


Down Cross-patch Road 


47 


out with the tussle, Roy found himself with a 
number of unfinished tasks to work over alone, 
and with a headache to make that occupation 
even more unpleasant. “ Bother everything! ” 
he exclaimed, slamming his books on the table 
and overturning his chair. “ I ’ll leave the 
whole wretched business and go to the conser- 
vatory until lunch. I ’m dying to see Prince 
Fay, and I know he will sympathise with me 
over all this wretched work that mean old 
thing has given me to do in my play-time. Of 
course fairies don’t have to plague their heads 
with lessons or be pestered with governesses.” 

Slipping down-stairs, he made his way to the 
conservatory, and his face perceptibly bright- 
ened as he breathed in the damp, warm, scent- 
laden air. The scene was very different from 
that of the night before. Daylight revealed 
the colour of each flower and showed all the 
delicate trailing leaves and tendrils of the vine. 
Roy remembered about where he had left his 
fairy Prince, but of course he could not ex- 
pect that sprightly little Fay in hunting green 
to sit still where he was put. He began, there- 


48 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


fore, to search diligently amid rose bushes and 
palms, ferns, daffodils, lilies and geraniums. 

Alas ! it was to be one more disappointment 
in a very disappointing day, for nowhere was 
there a trace of last night’s visitor. Once he 
thought he caught the sound of an airy, elu- 
sive laugh, but that may have been his fancy. 
As he became convinced that his search was in 
vain, he became more and more irritated, and 
shouted, “Prince Fay! Prince Fay! Where 
are you hiding? I call this an unkind trick 
to play me.” 

“ And what ’s that you may be saying, Mas- 
ter Roy? ” asked the gruff voice of John, the 
gardener, as that worthy emerged from the 
far end of the house. “And it ’s myself who 
should scold you, I ’m thinking, for you left 
my door open into the parlour ; and with such a 
cold night as it was, you might have spoilt half 
my plants, you might indeed.” 

“ Bother your old plants! ” was Roy’s retort, 
and, fond as he generally was of John, our 
very cross little boy flung away into the house, 
banging the conservatory door behind him. 


Down Cross-patch Road 


49 


He sought the library and flung himself 
down on the rug before the fire. He pondered 
long upon his miserable lot, and tried to make 
himself believe that he was a much-wronged, 
much-misunderstood little boy, against whom 
the whole world had combined in cruel intent 
to spoil his fun and thwart his plans. 

Sometimes a good long think alone helps 
one to get around to a point where things look 
more natural and as they ought to be. As 
Roy lay before the fire, cross and discontented, 
he became aware that the fire was crackling 
very good-naturedly. At first he was angry 
at that, and poked viciously at the little bubbles 
in the wood where the sap sang merrily, and 
little blue flames danced round the dozing em- 
bers, but the persistent good temper of flames 
and sparks and glowing logs began to warm 
his little heart, which had been trying so per- 
sistently to keep itself cold, hard and dis- 
agreeable. 

“ How I wish I could get good and happy 
and cheerful again,” he sighed at last, and, 
pillowing his head on his arm, he began to try 


4 


50 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


to count the sparks that ran along the nearly 
burnt-out end of a big log, that looked like a 
rocky headland in a sea of brilliant red em- 
bers. Now when little boys of naturally sweet 
and sunny tempers are cross and disagreeable, 
there is very often a cause; and if they 
are tired or sick, though they still ought not 
to give way to the cross feeling, mothers can 
find it out and know how to sympathise and 
help them back to the happy path of sunshiny 
life. 

Roy was a tired little boy, and, though he 
thought he was very wide-awake, the eyes that 
watched those entrancing little sparks were 
blinking in a very tell-tale fashion, and ere 
long the lids shut down and the long, silky 
lashes lay on the soft, pink cheeks that glowed 
so rosily in the firelight. Everybody knows 
that one can often see much further with one’s 
eyes shut, and that the things seen are some- 
times vastly more interesting. Roy was not 
aware that his eyes were tired, but he began to 
see much clearer and further than when he at 
first started to watch the fire. 






Down Cross-patch Road 


5i 


The big log had taken on the form of a cas- 
tle wall, bastioned and turreted like a strong, 
mediaeval fortress. A doorway, with watch- 
towers on either side, showed beyond it a wide 
courtyard; while in front was a deep moat, 
the waters of which glowed with sunset hues. 
As he watched the grim fortress, a little figure 
in golden armour appeared upon the wall and 
commenced to pace back and forth, the light 
of the setting sun gleaming and flashing from 
his spear. Another and another appeared, un- 
til it became evident that the castle was well 
garrisoned. 

For a long time the scene remained un- 
changed: the great, dark, fairy castle, with its 
turrets and battlements, its loop-holes and 
drawbridges, towered darkly over the bright 
moat, filled with fiery waters, tossing and rip- 
pling as under the touch of the wind ; while the 
sentinels and soldiery climbed to the towers, 
paced the battlements or hurried busily to and 
fro. 

Then came the sound of stir and excitement ; 
the portcullis fell and its dark length bridged 


52 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


the moat, while over it hastened chariots and 
horses. Some of the horses were ridden by 
warriors, with armour and accoutrements 
gleaming and flashing. Others bore graceful 
ladies of high degree, whose garments of 
clinging, cloudy gossamer and whose golden 
tresses floated behind them on the breeze in 
their hasty flight. Here and there rubies and 
emeralds, diamonds and amethysts, gleamed 
in the flimsy purple and blue and green of 
their draperies. 

This pageant lasted but a few moments, and 
then there was another change. Night seemed 
to have fallen. The gates were closed, the 
bridge drawn up ; the castle walls showed dark 
and uncertain against a gloomy sky, and only 
the sullen red of the moat gave light to the 
scene. Watching closely, in the dark Roy saw 
strange, silent foes steal on the fortress. How 
they crossed the moat, he could not tell, but 
they were there scaling the walls. They were 
clad in blue and grey, and seemed to cling and 
creep swiftly upward, unnoticed by the 
garrison. 


Down Cross-patch Road 


53 


As he watched, the inhabitants of the castle 
were awakened and rushed to the walls, and a 
battle royal raged. Figures in steel grey met 
the gleaming gold-clad defenders, and the 
clash and struggle that followed sent the 
enemy slipping and toppling backward into 
the red stream beneath. Again and again 
fresh enemies rushed to the attack, and some- 
times they reached the parapet and hurled their 
glittering foes down head long into the moat 
that greedily engulfed besieged and besiegers 
alike. 

Roy’s breath was coming short and quick 
with excitement. He knew nothing of the 
cause of the strife, nothing of this enchanted 
castle, nothing of its people, but all his sym- 
pathy was with those warriors of the golden 
armour, and against the stealthy, steel-blue foes 
that attacked them so relentlessly. A great 
silence seemed suddenly to fall. The little 
watcher held his breath. Surely the crisis had 
been reached. For a moment both the armies 
halted in action, and then a brilliant light shot 
skyward and the walls of the palace fell with 


54 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


a mighty crash; while blue and gold warriors 
were flung into the air and fell amid the 
ruins. 

The crash brought a cry of horror from 
Roy’s lips, and on the night scene rushed a 
flood of daylight, and he heard his mother’s 
voice saying, “ Why, my darling, did I startle 
you? You must have been fast asleep.” Fast 
asleep! No, indeed, he had been far too ex- 
cited to sleep; but where was his castle? Be- 
fore him was a smouldering log fire, with the 
big centre log just fallen and a confusion 
of sparks hurrying up from the blackened 
ashes, while little blue flames chased them 
chimney- ward. 

“ Mother, what was that dreadful crash? ” 
asked Roy, rubbing his eyes and striving to 
look with a clearer vision into the big fire- 
place. “ Crash, my darling? I suppose it was 
that big log caving in, and perhaps the bang- 
ing of the door as I came in, for there is quite 
a high wind blowing.” Poor Roy, what a dis- 
appointment! A smouldering fire was all that 
was left of his wondrous fairy castle. He had 


Down Cross-patch Road 


55 


awakened to find himself very much in the 
land of “ is.” 

It was only dreamland. He realised now 
that that was true. His fairies were sparks 
and drift-wood flames; his castle an old 
black log; and the whole wondrous pageant 
a dream of a sleepy brain. As he gathered 
himself together and turned to his mother, he 
whispered, “ I ’m afraid I was dreadfully cross 
and disagreeable, mother dear, but I am very 
truly sorry now, and I will try to be a very 
cheerful little boy for the rest of the day.” 

He firmly resolved that the afternoon should 
be spent in conquering his neglected lessons, 
but as he marched away to wash his face and 
hands for dinner, he thought to himself, with 
a real sense of loss, “ I suppose Prince Fay 
was all a dream too, because I could not find 
him; and I am further from the land of 
* maybe 5 than ever, and it is all very, very 
disappointing.” 

It is wonderful how sleep changes the whole 
aspect of life at times. We are down-hearted 
when our head touches the pillow, and we 


56 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


wake with a cheerfulness that makes us sing 
or whistle as we dress. Our brows were fur- 
rowed with care as we turned off the light, and 
the fleeting glimpses in the mirror showed us 
how worry had turned down the corners of our 
mouths. We come to the breakfast table with 
brow unfurrowed and lips smiling. How is 
it? Was a tired head weighing too heavily on 
a weary spine and sending all sorts of unhappy 
or uncomfortable nerve telegrams to brain and 
heart, to eyes and ears; in fact from head to 
foot of our sensitive bodies? Or are there 
in dreamland such restful stretches of green 
fields, such dear faces to greet us, and such 
pleasant happenings that we are comforted 
and made to feel that there are always better 
things coming than we had feared? 

Roy’s sleep was not long, but it was sound, 
and it had carried him into the land of his de- 
sire. He had seen the fire fairies, and had 
travelled away from his supposed trials and 
troubles, which had seemed so hard and crush- 
ing for the moment. That little doze by the 
fire had done him a world of good. He woke 


Down Cross-patch Road 


57 


to see that he had made himself and others un- 
happy for nothing, and a generous use of cold 
water further helped him to bring to the table 
a bright and cheery face. He did not even 
resent his elder brother’s remark that “ baby’s 
eye-tooth must be through ; he is so much more 
amiable.” 












































































































j 


























. 











































































































































































































































ROY GETS BACK INTO 
THE RIGHT PATH TO 
FAIRYLAND 


59 
























CHAPTER IV 


EOY GETS BACK INTO THE EIGHT PATH TO 
FAIEY-LAND 

I T had been a good week. The record, both 
in and out of the schoolroom, showed well 
for Roy, and that he was earnestly trying his 
best was without a question. Working hard 
and being good brought the inevitable reward 
— happiness. The days seemed brighter, and 
the desire to sing and whistle made Roy as 
cheery as a little bird, while his sunny face was 
a joy to behold by those who loved him. 

In his own little heart, when he thought of 
it, there was a sense of disappointment and 
loss, for he had to believe that Prince Fay was 
only a dreamland fancy, and that the wonder- 
ful little friend, who held for him the key to 
fairy-land, was as unreal as the bright little fig- 
ures that peopled the fire city of his dream. 
After that afternoon nap and his sudden awak- 
ening, he had not even thought it worth while 

61 


62 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


to visit the conservatory, for it certainly held 
no more real fairies than the pile of burned 
logs into which his castles had dissolved 
themselves. 

He did not give up his dreams and fancies, 
but it seemed to him that he was further away 
than ever from the road he sought, and yet in 
reality he was taking the quickest and surest 
way thither. When our delightful friend, 
“ Alice in the Looking Glass,” wanted to reach 
a given place, she found she must deliberately 
walk away from it to get there. Roy had 
seemed to turn his back on fairy-land when he 
banished it from his thoughts to study well and 
make a new record, but that was the very way 
to find Prince Fay again. 

Lessons were over for the day, as it was 
Saturday and Miss Sloane only came for music 
and drawing in the morning. Roy was having 
a royal time in the snow. The swift, thrilling 
descent of a lawn three hundred feet long on 
a steep hillside, covered^s it was with a smooth, 
ice-crusted blanket of snow, made a splendid 
course for a sled. Over and over again he 


The Right Path to Fairy-land 63 


shot down from the terrace, with little flurries 
of snow rising on either side behind his bright 
runners like steam. It was a royal rush down- 
hill, that made the blood tingle and thrilled the 
heart with a vague sense of possible danger; 
but the trudge uphill again, dragging the sled, 
was the dull, tedious part of the program. 

Under his bright red cap the sunny hair blew 
in a bright tangle of disorder. His cheeks 
grew rosier every minute, and a merry laugh 
rang out between his little white teeth each 
time a bump and jolt threatened to part him 
from his flying sled. Time flies quickly on 
such a cheery, wintry day ; and mother, watch- 
ing from the window, was rather sorry to have 
to call to that very active little bundle of wool 
and fur, with the happy flushed face peeping 
out of it, that it was time to come in. 

In from such fun! Oh! that was too bad. 
Roy felt tempted to shout back, “ Why? ” He 
knew well, however, that mother disliked that 
little word, especially given with a discontented 
or complaining accent, “ Why! oh! why must 
I ? ” Roy, I am glad to say, conquered the 


6 4 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


rising discontent, and after a moment of strug- 
gle shouted back, “ All right, mother dear,” 
and a moment later she heard him on the 
porch, stamping the snow off his shoes and 
whistling merrily. 

Going down to meet him, mother rather re- 
gretted that she had to remind her little son of 
a Saturday duty that had been postponed from 
morning and must now be undertaken. Quite 
a number of birds were members of the house- 
hold. There was a pretty brass cage with 
tiny foreign finches fluttering joyously from 
perch to perch; some with coral red beaks, 
some with bright plumage, others of more 
sombre dress, making themselves admired by 
their sweet little trills of song. Another cage 
held a number of canaries, sometimes singing 
so loudly that you would think they were com- 
peting for a prize to be given to the one that 
could drown all other voices with his own 
ecstatic notes. At other times, I ’m sorry to 
say, they varied the performance by a very 
ungenerous bickering among themselves, that 
sometimes ended in a fierce flash of angry 


The Right Path to Fairy-land 65 


beaks and flutter of yellow wings, after which 
a little bunch of loosened feathers would float 
out of the cage. 

Besides these two family cages there was one 
containing a very dignified bullfinch, who sang 
at times, in a deep-toned voice, a funny little 
song, to accomplish which feat he had appar- 
ently to wind himself up like a mechanical toy. 
His black-capped head twisted in one direction 
and his tail in the other with great precision as 
he jerked out the notes. 

Now Roy was wild with delight when these 
feathered friends had been given him, and at 
first it was great fun feeding them and clean- 
ing their cages; but when the newness of pos- 
session had worn off, and this became a duty 
which must be attended to, Roy often found 
himself wishing there were no perches to clean, 
no food cups to fill, and no gravel to sift or re- 
plenish. The question often on mother’s lips 
was, “ Have you fed the birds? ” Often the 
answer came, “ I forgot ” or “ I had n’t time.” 

To-day mother had herself excused him in 
the morning, thinking that after the sun was 


66 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


down and the air too chilly for outside play, 
the duty could be fitted in before tea-time. 
When Roy came in this afternoon and was 
reminded of this duty, his good mood made him 
answer cheerily; and still whistling, he set to 
work cleaning and scraping until the cages 
looked as good and clean as if they were new. 

Twilight was gathering outside, a star shone 
over the fir tree, and little clouds in a pale blue 
sky were flushed rosy pink or clear amber, as 
they said “ Good-bye ” to the sun that had al- 
ready dropped behind the hill. Roy was 
through with his work, and was watching the 
evening changes on the snowy scene, when an 
impulse made him shake off his dreamy mood 
and call to his mother, “ Is there anything I 
can do to help you, mother dear? ” “Yes, my 
darling,” came the answer; and following the 
sound of his mother’s voice, he found her 
standing at the dining-room door talking to 
John, the gardener. 

“ Roy,” she said, “ we have company for 
dinner and you shall help me arrange the flow- 
ers. Go now with John and help to bring 


The Right Path to Fairy-land 67 

them in while I fetch the vases. Mind, John,” 
she added, “ they are all to be yellow this time, 
narcissus and jonquils, some tulips and plenty 
of my favorite freezias for the smaller vases.” 
Here was work that Roy loved. The warm, 
damp, earthy smell of the conservatory was a 
delight. Holding the big basket with its grow- 
ing pile of golden treasure, and now and then 
wielding the scissors himself to sever the smilax 
and tender fern fronds, was a delight indeed 
to this child, with his passionate love of the 
beautiful and his keen enjoyment of colour and 
perfume. 

It was strange that he should not have 
thought once of Prince Fay, as he followed 
the gardener through the green aisles of the 
conservatory, but his mind was so full of the 
flowers, and he had so accepted the belief that 
his fairy friend was no more real than the 
fleeting images of his dream, that he returned 
to the dining-room with his beautiful burden, 
not having once looked beneath fern or branch 
for the little green figure with its jaunty cap 
and hunting horn. 


68 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


It was delightful work, twining the green 
smilax and maiden-hair ferns over the white 
damask; and still more did he enjoy arranging 
each golden narcissus in the tall glass vase 
that was to stand in the centre of the table. 
Just one more big trumpet-shaped flower was 
needed to make the bunch perfect. Mother 
had been called away, and he wanted that vase 
completed before her return. He dived his 
hand down and found just the right flower. 
It was a firm, glorious specimen, with big, 
strong, spreading petals and a deep cup with 
beautifully frilled edges. 

Just as Roy slipped it into its place, his hand 
shook and he gave a little scream; something 
lay all curled up within it. Roy was not fool- 
ishly frightened at bugs or snails, and often 
enjoyed watching them in the garden, but on 
the dining-room table it was a little different. 
He did not want to shake this insect out onto 
the table, where it might hide beneath a spoon 
or plate. Dropping the flower back into the 
basket, he ran and turned on the light. 

How pretty the fern-strewn, flower-decked 


























The Right Path to Fairy-land 69 

table looked in the soft light of those yellow- 
shaded electric globes. Turning to the basket 
with a little shudder, he cautiously picked up 
the flower he wanted and peeped into it. Was 
it, could it be? Yes, impossible as it might 
have seemed to his unsuspecting little mind a 
moment ago. His eyes could not be playing 
him false. There, in the yellow depth of the 
long flower trumpet, stood Prince Fay. He 
had evidently been fast asleep, for he was rub- 
bing his eyes with one tiny hand, while with 
the other he rested against the flower’s petal, 
as one might rest against the pillar of a house. 

His green velvet coat was all yellow with 
pollen, and his jaunty cap had fallen at his 
feet. “ Oh, dear! ” he yawned, “ I was having 
such a good, old sleep. What on earth did you 
give me such a shaking up for? You might 
have been a little more polite, I think.” — “ Is 
it really you, Prince Fay? ” whispered Roy 
breathlessly. “ Guess it is,” he answered with 
a little laugh, “ only I ’m too sleepy to be quite 
sure.” At that Roy was so delighted that he 
started to dance around the room with the 


70 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


flower held high in his hand ; and the dear little 
Prince received such a jolting in his yellow 
bed that, when Roy at last came to a stand- 
still, he was very wide awake, holding on to 
the edge of the flower with a most desperate 
grip and shouting, “ Stop! ” at the top of his 
tiny lungs. “ That ’s a nice way to welcome 
a friend,” he exclaimed. “ What are you go- 
ing to do next, little madcap ?” he inquired ; 
but his assumed wrath rippled off into a merry 
laugh of good comradeship, which showed him 
to be the same good-natured little Fay of Roy’s 
fireside experience. 

“ Well,” said Roy, “ I am going to put your 
castle, bed, or house, or palace, or whatever you 
call this yellow narcissus, in the middle of this 
big vase, so! Now, Prince Fay, you can be 
the chief guest at my mother’s dinner party, 
and I hope you will behave well and enjoy 
yourself.” — “ My dear little boy,” said His 
Highness, balancing on the edge of the flower 
and adjusting his velvet cap, shaking the 
golden dust from his cloak and restoring him- 
self to his usual gallant appearance, “ I don’t 


The Right Path to Fairy-land 7 T 

care a pin for this dinner party if you are 
not to be present. Grown-up folks are so 
stupid. They only have two eyes apiece, most 
of them.” 

It was Roy’s ringing laugh that made the 
room echo this time. “ Only two eyes ! Why, 
how many do you think they ought to have? 
They would look mighty queer with any extra 
ones.” — “ Well, you look all right, Roy, and 
you have two pair.” — “ Nonsense, Prince Fay, 
you can’t quite have woke up yet.” At this 
the little Prince looked very solemn and pre- 
tended to dive back into his bed, but in re- 
sponse to Roy’s “ Please don’t,” he settled 
himself more comfortably and proceeded to 
explain. 

“ No, Roy, I am talking fairy-land sense, 
whatever you may think of it. If I stay here 
at your mother’s dinner party, I ’ll have a dull 
time of it. Her guests will not talk to me. 
They will most of them not even see me, and 
if they do catch a glimpse, their eyes are not 
good enough to appreciate me as I deserve. 
Now children are different. They most of 


72 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


them, unless weary grown-ups have spoiled 
their second sight, have another good pair of 
eyes, the eyes of their imagination, and they 
see beautiful things that the learned stupids 
don’t see.” 

“ Prince Fay,” said Roy rather sharply, “my 
mother ’s a grown-up and she ’s not stupid, 
and I think she has beautiful eyes. You will 
have to take that back as far as she is con- 
cerned.” — “ Right you are, Roy, your mother 
had two very good pairs of eyes when she was 
a little girl, and she uses them both still some- 
times when she has time to play, but at other 
times she thinks it is right to keep the extra 
pair shut; but I think she knows enough to 
understand you and me perfectly.” So say- 
ing he arose and made a sweeping bow to a 
white-clad figure standing smiling in the 
doorway. 

“Well done, my darling; the flowers are 
lovely. Thank you, my little helper. Now 
you will have to run off to the schoolroom, 
where there is a lovely fire, and such a nice 
tea waiting for you.” Roy hesitated, looking 


The Right Path to Fairy-land 73 

back at Prince Fay, who had slipped back into 
his flower and was peeping over the edge. He 
heard him whisper in an eager little voice, 
“ Take me with you.” — “ Mother, may I have 
one flower for the schoolroom?” asked Roy, 
as his mother bent over and kissed him. “ Why 
yes, my darling,” she answered. 

He quickly stretched out his hand and lifted 
the big yellow blossom, and as he did so his 
mother’s eye caught sight of something within. 
Looking closer she exclaimed, “ £ Why, there 
is a poor moth. Do be careful; it may fly out 
and get into the fire. Better put it into the 
greenhouse, for out of the window it would 
surely freeze.” Then as the little boy tiptoed 
away, she said to herself, “ Strange! No 
moths should be coming out at this time of the 
year. I must look it up and see what kind 
it can be”; but the noise of father’s home- 
coming banished the thought, and Roy rushed 
up to the schoolroom safely with his fairy 
friend. 






MEETS 



75 





CHAPTER V 


ROY MEETS THE PRINCESS FIRELIGHT 

H OW cosy the schoolroom looked! The 
lights were not yet lit, but there was 
no need of them, for a great, cheery fire burned 
in the fireplace, and the ruddy glow of leaping 
flames played with the shadows, making even 
the far-away corners smile in response. Plac- 
ing his flower in a tall, thin vase on the small 
table near the window, Roy held out his little 
pink palm for his friend to alight. This feat 
he accomplished by dropping out of the flower 
head first, and turning a neat little somersault 
before alighting on his daintily shod little feet. 

“ Hey ho ! So here we are again, and a real 
cosy time of it we can have by that glorious 
fire, if you will kindly escort me to its hospi- 
table glow. My friends, the fire fairies, are 
very busy to-night, I see.” Then looking down 
over his little person, he exclaimed, “ But what 
a sight I am! I must ask you to act as valet 


77 


78 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


and brush off this yellow pollen, that makes 
my velvet clothes look positively shabby.” 
— “ Certainly,” responded Roy, and dropping 
Prince Fay on the table rather unceremoni- 
ously, he ran off to mother’s room, and re- 
turned breathless with a silver-mounted 
clothes-brush, big enough to exterminate half 
a dozen fairy folk of Prince Fay’s dimensions. 

The little Prince was sitting Turk fashion 
on the table, shaking the yellow pollen out of 
one tiny shoe, when he looked up with an ex- 
clamation of horror. “ Hold hard, old man! ” 
he cried, “ those wretched bristles would tear 
my clothes to pieces and leave me pierced and 
mangled on the gory field. You must look 
around and find something more fairy-like to 
answer the need of the occasion.” 

While Roy stood uncertain as to what im- 
plement to use, a clear, silvery note, calling 
“ Swe-et, swe-et ” made him look up at his 
canary’s cage. The yellow songster was peer- 
ing down with bright, little, black eyes, his 
crested head cocked knowingly on one side. 
A flash of yellow and he had vanished to the 


Roy Meets Princess Firelight 79 

bottom of his cage; another flash and he was 
up again with a soft feather in his beak. As 
he dropped it, it floated down to the table 
and fell at the feet of the tiny, green-clad 
gentleman. 

“ Ah ha! That is a sensible bird,” cried the 
Prince. “ They always are our friends, and 
this is just the very thing with which to brush 
me off.” Roy complied very willingly, and 
soon had his friend as neat and smart as pos- 
sible; and admired to his heart’s content the 
soft, dainty fabric and flashing jewels that 
showed him so clearly to be a person of dis- 
tinction in the fairy world. 

“ Now, Roy, I will be your guide to-night, 
and you shall have at last a glimpse into the 
land of your desire.” So saying, the Prince 
stepped onto Roy’s hand and pointed to the 
glowing hearth as the way to be followed. 
Could it be really an ordinary log fire at which 
those grey eyes gazed in wonder? To Roy, as 
he settled himself upon the rug, it looked like 
a glorious ballroom. Columns and pillars up- 
held a domed roof and galleries of golden fret- 


8o 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


work ; while the floor was of the same precious 
metal, burnished to such brightness that the 
eye could hardly bear to look upon it. Hither 
and thither, now in stately minuet, now in 
giddy waltz, glided and whirled the most fas- 
cinating little figures, their flimsy clothing 
made of every imaginable shade of blue, green, 
violet and yellow; while in their midst was a 
glorious little being clothed in billowy white 
robes, girdled and crowned with rubies. 

“ Dreaming again,” said Roy, trying to 
pinch himself. “ No, you ’re not,” said Prince 
Fay, who was balancing himself on the brass 
rim of the fender; “ you may have to sleep be- 
fore you can leave us again, but that part of 
the program will come later. Just now I am 
especially anxious to introduce you to Princess 
Firelight, who was a particular friend of mine 
in the pine forest before she was appointed, 
with her attendants, to the realm she now so 
eminently graces.” The last sentences were 
said in a louder tone and evidently intended for 
the ears of the fair lady herself, as the gallant 
little figure of our Prince advanced bowing 


Roy Meets Princess Firelight 81 

low, while his feathered cap swept the ground, 
and the music to which the dancers had tripped 
so gaily hushed to the faintest whisper. 

A silvery laugh responded, and the queenly 
little figure swayed graciously to meet him. 
“ My dear Prince,” she answered, “ I am in- 
deed glad to welcome you. You have come 
at the right moment, for my ladies are almost 
tired out. To-day we received a challenge 
from the frost fairies. They are exceedingly 
busy in their own realm, and they not only 
declared they would out-do us, but their prince, 
who has long been a persistent suitor for my 
hand, has threatened that he would come him- 
self and visit me within my own bright castle. 
To tell you the truth, he is a most charming 
fellow, and I think he must be weary of leading 
his legions to war, but you know of course that 
we cannot seriously think of our wedding until 
the springtime relieves us from our duties. I 
was the cause of his undertaking these arduous 
duties, as doubtless you know; and now I am 
doing fiery penance for my coquetry.” 

“Of course, of course,” sighed Prince Fay, 


82 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


“ my own heart throbs, I fear, with a jealous 
pang when I think of it. It will come all too 
soon; but for the moment I wish to introduce 
a friend of mine, a mortal who is not blind and 
who, despite his monstrous form, is only a 
little boy.” Another silvery laugh greeted 
these words, and the tiniest of little hands was 
stretched up in greeting to our rather shame- 
faced little boy, who wished for the first time 
in his life to lose inches rather than gain them. 

“ Dear Roy,” were the friendly words of 
greeting, “ you are no stranger to me. I have 
known and loved you long. You have not 
seen me, but often I have chased the shadows 
in your schoolroom. I have dried your tears 
when you have sat looking into my kingdom; 
and have rejoiced to warm your cold fingers 
when you have stretched them out to me in an 
appeal I quite understood, though you did not 
put it into words or address it to me per- 
sonally. Welcome to my ball to-night. I 
will touch you with my sceptre, that you will 
not be inconvenienced by your unfairy-like 
proportions; and I will touch you also, my 


Roy Meets Princess Firelight 83 

dear Prince,” she added, “ that your charming 
personality and flowery clothing be not lost 
and merged into my kingdom of glowing 
flames.” 

How light was the touch of that tiny, golden 
sceptre, with its flashing ruby tip, but what a 
marvellous effect followed! In a moment the 
pillars and dome, the columns and galleries of 
the palace had reared themselves far above 
Roy’s head, and he found himself stepping on 
the golden floor with feet as tiny as those of 
his companion. In fact the throng around 
him was composed of beings taller than him- 
self, for only the little page boys and flower 
girls were children of his own size. 

As he stood bewildered, the music broke 
forth again, and hundreds of dancing figures 
whirled and glided past him, the Princess Fire- 
light herself leading them, with one white 
hand resting lightly on the green-velvet-clad 
shoulder of Prince Fay. “ Come, little mor- 
tal,’* said a voice behind him, and turning, 
he looked into the sweet childish face of a 
tiny creature, evidently not long out of the 


8 4 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


fire fairy nursery, if there was such a place. 

“ I like that,” said Roy, with some indigna- 
tion. “ If I ’m little, what are you? ” — “ Lit- 
tler, of course,” was the saucy response. “ No, 
you’re not, either,” remonstrated Roy; 
“ there ’s no such word ; it ’s bad grammar. 
You should say ‘ smaller.’ ” — “ This is not 
school,” said the little elf, turning a pirouette 
on her tiny toes. “ Come along and I ’ll show 
you the fountain and the fishes. That is more 
fun than dancing when you are tired out, as I 
am.” There was no sign of fatigue in the airy 
little creature, clothed in pink and gold and 
twinkling with tiny, crystal spangles, as she 
leaped back and forth before him. 

“ Flamelit ” was her name, he learned, and 
merry was her chatter, so that when they sat 
together at the edge of a great, marble foun- 
tain, making ineffectual dabs at the gliding 
forms of gold and silver fish, they became at 
once friendly and confidential. “ Would you 
like to know the story of our lady Firelight? ” 
she asked. “It is not long, but it is interest- 
ing, at least to those of us who love her. She 











Roy Meets Princess Firelight 85 

was a flower fairy once, like your Prince Fay, 
and the day she was born they found her sleep- 
ing in the big half-open bud of a great, white 
lily. She was always sweet and graceful like 
her flower, and was as happy as the day was 
long. The spring and summer is the season 
of the flower fairies in this part of the world. 
Only those who fly away south with the birds, 
or get caught unawares like your friend, can 
remain flower fairies always. There is plenty 
of work in the fairy’s life, but some of them 
have hard duties to perform, much harder than 
others; and when a prince wants to prove 
worthy of the princess of his heart, he has to 
do something that means sacrifice, to prove 
himself worthy. 

“ There is no duty harder in the fairy world 
than the leading of the regiments of the Frost 
King. Some people think the Frost King 
cruel, and shudder at the mention of his name, 
but that is all a mistake. He is needed in the 
world, and does a great, good work. It is the 
frost that toughens the trees and makes them 
strong; that locks the ground in winter, and 


86 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


guards the sleeping roots and bulbs, and that 
gives to nature its needed night of rest, before 
the dawn of day again in the sweet sunrise of 
spring. 

“ Well, every year our Sovereign asks what 
prince of her train will volunteer to stay be- 
hind and face the cold of winter to lead his fol- 
lowers forth in the Frost King’s service. The 
Lily maid, as you may imagine, was loved and 
courted for her beauty and sweetness by all 
the eligible, young princes in fairy-land, but 
she was full of fun and loved her freedom, and 
would never say whom she favoured. There 
came at last a Prince, beautiful and spirited, 
dressed in the mauve and purple of the passion- 
flower, in which blossom he had been born. He 
certainly was passionately in love with our 
Lily Princess, and those from whom I heard 
the story say that he would plead and plead 
with her when they walked together in the 
moonlight or danced under the fir trees on the 
mossy carpet of the forest, but she always met 
his wooing with a silvery laugh and told him 
she liked him well but loved her freedom better. 


Roy Meets Princess Firelight 87 

“ So passed the summer, and with the com- 
ing of the fall the fairies gathered in the gold 
and crimson glory of the fairies’ council hall, 
to prepare for the journey to the south-land. 
Once more the Prince, brave in the glory of his 
royal purple cloak, sought out his lady and 
begged her to name the deed he must dare to 
win her, or the sacrifice he must pay to prove 
his devotion. It was, perchance, the mischief 
of the moment, or a thrill at the sound of the 
silvery trumpet’s call, that prompted her, for 
as she turned with the flash of challenge in her 
bright eyes, she said, ‘ Throw aside your pur- 
ple trappings and don the icy mantle of the 
Frost King. Then I will believe in the spring- 
time that you love me well.’ 

“ There are those who think she did not 
mean it, and that she loved him far too well to 
wish this separation ; but the words once spoken 
could not be recalled, and the next time she saw 
him he was tramping away with his followers 
with face set and stern, and icy steel-grey mail 
had taken the place of his velvet and jewels. 

“ The fairies were to leave that night at the 


88 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


full of the moon, but our lady, weeping dew- 
drops as she went, sought out the Queen and 
begged to be left behind. There was only one 
way, — to exchange her flowery path for the 
life of a fire fairy; to allow herself and her 
followers to be gathered with the fallen giants 
of the forest and the crackling fir cones, that 
are piled up to fight for mortals the stern 
onslaught of the winter’s chill. 

“ She acepted the offer, and with her whole 
retinue of faithful followers she does valiantly 
her part, and rejoices to live still in the land 
where her lover abides, though they have never 
met; and it is only when our lights burn low 
and our feet are weary that he can send a 
snowy messenger to greet her with a reminder 
that some day he will conquer and that she will 
yet be his.” 





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































- 






CHAPTER VI 


THE FROST PRINCE COMES 

T HE lights in the great hall were growing 
dim. Roy, looking down into the water, 
saw the fish poised motionless as if asleep. 
Turning to address little Flamelit, he found 
she had left him, and a cold chill sweeping 
through the ballroom made him shiver. Look- 
ing up at the lights to see what had happened, 
he noted that the dome of the palace seemed to 
reach up interminably, and the chasm above 
was black as night. Somehow this black 
cavernous vault above him seemed to fascinate 
him, and as he gazed upward he distinguished 
tiny points of light that looked familiar. Yes, 
surely, they were stars. 

The music in the palace had grown weird 
and faint, and it seemed almost like the sigh 
and wail of the wind. Looking back at the 
floor, he saw that the little dancers tripped very 


91 


92 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


slowly and some swayed as if their energy was 
flickering out. 

Roy shivered again, and looking up once 
more into the blackness he saw a soft, white 
snow-flake sail down from the darkness into 
the dull glow of the great hall. A snow-flake 
I said, but to him it seemed very large, and no 
sooner had it touched the ground than he saw 
that he was mistaken in his first estimate. It 
was a magnificent white steed. Another and 
yet another descended noiselessly, and on each 
beautiful creature was seated a knight in 
steely-grey armour, smooth and glittering like 
crystal. As they advanced into the light, pris- 
matic colours glowed and flashed from their 
helmets, shields, and lances. 

Bewildered and somewhat awed, Roy hur- 
ried into the brighter part of the palace, hoping 
to find his friend, and came instead upon a 
golden throne, upon the steps of which many 
graceful fairy figures, apparently overcome 
with weariness, lay sleeping. The crimson 
seat was vacant, but as he stood wondering he 
saw Prince Fay leading the Princess Firelight 


The Frost Prince Comes 


93 


towards it. She looked very sweet and lovely 
in her flimsy, white robes, that seemed to float 
around her like mountain mist around some 
slender flower. That she was weary was very 
evident, though Prince Fay walked gallantly 
erect, and the click of his high-heeled shoes 
rang clear on the golden floor. 

The Princess Firelight had no sooner sunk 
down on the crimson velvet cushion of her 
throne, than Roy heard the notes of a bugle 
ring out clear and silvery; and from the 
shadowy corners of the great hall a whole 
company of glittering knights on milk-white 
chargers advanced to stand in a silent circle 
just where the light revealed them, but not near 
enough to feel the warmth and brightness that 
still glowed around the Princess. 

Thus they stood waiting until from their 
midst stepped a tall, upright, princely figure, 
clad in the same white armour, riding also a 
snowy steed, but with an added dignity and an 
indescribably royal bearing that made Roy feel 
at once that this was their Prince and leader. 
As he advanced to the steps of the throne, the 


94 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


ruddy light danced from the diamonds in- 
crusted in his helmet and clasping his white 
velvet cloak. The same fine gems gleamed 
and glittered on the trappings of his horse, and 
as he sprang to the ground a strain of weird, 
wind-like music seemed to burst forth in 
welcome. 

Quickly he bounded up the steps, and Roy 
followed, anxious to see and hear the meeting, 
in which he felt the keenest interest. Stand- 
ing close to his friend Prince Fay, who had 
withdrawn a little from the Princess Firelight, 
he saw the White Prince kneel and raise his 
lady’s little pink hand to his lips. “ Dear 
love,” he whispered, “ I have come. Out of 
the dark night, away from the howling wind, 
to your halls of warmth and gladness; come 
to tell you that I am unchanged in my love and 
loyalty. I know all too well that my day is 
not yet; still there is work for me to do; still 
in the darkness I must lead my legions, and I 
cannot carry you away as my heart bids me, 
or my sweet Lily maid would fade from a 
warm glowing ruler of light and beauty to a 


The Frost Prince Comes 


95 


chilly frost-blighted ghost in the snowy coun- 
try where I must dwell. I come not to chill 
your heart, but to tell you that when the sun 
shines again with spring warmth, when the 
birds’ songs fill the budding forest, I shall 
surely come for you ; and our work being done, 
and our hearts fully tested, we will go to our 
Queen’s court in the green woodland and claim 
her sanction to our union.” 

No word answered this knightly speech, but 
the love-light in the lady’s bright eyes and the 
tender smile told the story of her beating heart. 
Stooping, the Prince touched her hand, and 
as he turned away and clanked, with trailing 
sword and ringing spurs, down the golden 
steps to his waiting horse, Roy saw the flash of 
a brilliant diamond on one of her slender fin- 
gers, and looking from it to her face he saw to 
his surprise that the Princess Firelight was 
sleeping. 

Shadows crept ever nearer; the gold and the 
rubies, the glory and the glitter of the en- 
chanted palace, were fading. It was like the 
sunset lights when the great, golden hall of 


9 6 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


heaven has vanished, and rosy pink and clear 
amber pales to the dull, coppery tints of the 
after-glow. 

“Hey ho! It’s getting positively cold,” 
called the cheery voice of the Prince at his 
side, and taking Roy’s hand he tripped lightly 
down the steps and hurried into the darkness 
after the retiring knights. Their leader had 
halted, and, turning in his saddle, looked smil- 
ingly down on the pair, as they caught up with 
him. “ Why, Fay, I ’m right glad to see you, 
though I suppose I should feel some twinge 
of jealousy to find you my lady’s guest when 
I ’m shut out in the cold. I heard some whis- 
per of your being still with us, and your sum- 
mer-like clothing is good to our eyes, when they 
have grown weary of the everlasting whiteness 
of the outside world.” 

Then including Roy with a sweep of his 
mailed hand, he asked, “You have danced with 
the fairies of the flame, will you follow us to 
the serious work of the night? ” “ Most 

gladly,” answered Prince Fay, “ providing you 
don’t undertake to hang us up as icicles by 


The Frost Prince Comes 


97 


morning.” “ No, surely, that would be scant 
courtesy,” answered the knight; and unfasten- 
ing his white cloak, he bent down and threw 
it over the shoulders of the green-clad fairy. 
Taking another mantle from his attendant 
squire, he adjusted it upon Roy’s shoulders, 
saying in a voice of command, “ Frost, snow, 
and ice, chill wind, and bitter cold, come not 
near my honoured guests to-night.” 

In another moment he had whirled upward 
into the dark dome of the palace, and the squire 
advanced to Roy and his friend, leading two 
snowy white horses, whose tossing manes and 
tails seemed to be fanned by some rising breeze. 
Hardly had they mounted when, waiting for 
no guiding hand, the fairy steeds leaped for- 
ward and upward into the darkness. It was 
dark! And as they ascended it became in- 
creasingly breezy. There seemed to be great 
walls of rock on either side of them, hung with 
funeral drapings, but what their nature and 
purpose was, Roy’s bewildered eyes failed to 
ascertain. Their pace was so rapid and the 
wind that rushed around them, blowing his 


7 


98 Twilight Fairy Tales 

horse’s mane almost into his face, so over- 
whelming that he became breathless and giddy. 

Suddenly they shot out of the chasm into a 
glorious frosty night. Yes, those were stars 
above them, and away on the horizon the lights 
of the great city were scintillating. Now the 
horses changed their course and floated down- 
ward. Surrounding them on all sides was a 
legion of white steeds, each guided by a knight 
in glittering mail; while the silver notes of a 
bugle call gathered them in martial array 
upon a great snow-covered plain, where al- 
ready their leader waited to send them forth to 
the duties that called for their services that 
night. 

“ Why, it is snowing,” said Roy’s mother, 
as she drew back the heavy curtains and looked 
out, “ but,” she added, “ it is only a passing 
flurry, for the stars are bright and the lights 
of New York are especially brilliant. It must 
be cold and frosty, and how the wind wails! 
It is almost like distant music in the pines.” 
Letting the curtains fall back again, she re- 
joiced in the warmth and brightness of the 


The Frost Prince Comes 


99 


room where her guests were gathered. It was 
fragrant with flowers and cheery with the 
sound of laughter and voices. She had missed 
the gleam and flash of armour, and the whirl 
and rush of milk-white cavalry, though the 
light flooded for a moment the darkness with- 
out and fell full on the advancing hosts of the 
Frost King. She was only looking with her 
two brown eyes. The eyes Prince Fay knew 
she had once used, and could use sometimes 
even now, were shut, and she could not see into 
the fairyland her little boy had found at last. 

The flash of light seemed to Hoy like the 
coming of daylight, and he wondered at its 
vanishing again so soon, but no time was left 
for him to wonder. He was hurried by his 
flying steed into the very midst of a busy, gal- 
loping, and yet orderly throng. The air was 
filled with music, — now like the strains of a 
martial band; now the solemn, swelling notes 
or a great pipe organ, and again a mysterious 
sighing of geolian harps. 

Battalion after battalion of the Prince’s 
knights were starting out in different 

lofc. 


IOO 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


directions, some toward giant trees that bor- 
dered the plain, some charging over its smooth 
surface, and others disappearing in the dark- 
ness to carry out orders known only to them- 
selves. When all were sent forth save his own 
immediate attendants, the Prince turned with 
a smile to his guests. “ Prince Fay,” he said, 
“ this is to be a busy night of hard work. We 
are to bring the temperature down to zero, and 
I shall have to ride far and fast myself, to see 
that our duty is well performed; but you can 
do the honours of wintry fairyland just as well 
as I could do them, and your horses are per- 
fectly trained and need no guiding. I am off 
to frost over the house windows, or the big 
people may see out and learn secrets that are 
not meant for unbelieving two-eyed mortals.” 

With a wave of his hand he was off, followed 
by his retinue, and Roy watched his glittering 
flight, for the white horses were galloping on 
the wings of the wind. He saw that they 
seemed to be charging up a great mountain of 
stone. Yes, surely, it was a gigantic castle, 
overwhelming in size as it loomed out of the 


The Frost Prince Comes 


IOI 


shadows. A merry laugh brought his eyes 
back to the face of his companion, who seemed 
highly amused at his absorption. 

“ Well, Roy, since you became my size, and 
less in fact, for you hardly reach my shoulder, 
the big frosty world looks very different to 
you, does it not? What do you suppose that 
great mountain of stone is, now? ” “ The 

castle of some giant,” answered Roy. “ Yes,” 
said his friend, “ you are right, but the giant 
is your father, and the castle your home, and 
you generally call it a house.” “ Nonsense,” 
cried Roy, with indignation, “ my father is a 
fine, tall man, but I won’t have him called a 
giant; it is disrespectful.” — “ Nevertheless, my 
little mortal, you would call him that yourself 
if you could stand on his hand just now. Why, 
child, you are no bigger than his thumb nail; 
but come, time flies; you will have to go home 
before your mother misses you.” 

At a word the horses were off over the plain 
in hot pursuit of the regiment, that was cross- 
ing and recrossing it. “ Do you know what 
this great, white country is, Roy? ” asked 


102 


Twilight Fairy Tales 

Prince Fay. “ No,” he answered, “ I should 
suppose it was miles of open country, and as it 
is smooth and has no hills nor forests, I should 
call it a plain.” Again the merry laugh, and 
his friend answered, “It is your own lawn, 
Roy, and a very lovely, green country it makes 
for the fairies in the summer-time. I know 
the size of it well, for one season it was my 
duty to lead a regiment of dew sprinklers over 
it every evening, and I had to sleep in a ham- 
mock in the fir tree all day after the labour 
of it.” 

Roy made no comment, but looked with 
keenest interest at the horsemen they were fast 
approaching. Each one seemed to have a 
basket made of silver filigree on the saddle in 
front of him, and was sowing its contents 
broadcast as he rode. “ Why, what seed could 
ever grow on snow-covered ground? ” he asked, 
and for answer Prince Fay made him press 
closer and look at the shower that fell from 
each mailed hand. It was not seeds but dia- 
monds, cold, clear, and glistening. The moon 
had risen, and in its clear, white light the jewels 


















The Frost Prince Comes 


103 


gleamed with every colour of the rainbow, and 
sparkled until the whole moving host seemed 
to be enveloped in a mist of light and glory. 

How long Roy would have stood watching 
the manoeuvres of these jewel-scattering fair- 
ies, Prince Fay did not know, for he evidently 
had no realisation of the flight of time ; but his 
friend placed his hand lightly on the horse’s 
bridle, and wheeling together they galloped off 
into the darker shadows that bordered the 
plain. There, giant trees of many kinds reared 
their naked limbs, and fine white-covered pines, 
firs, and cedars spread graceful branches 
heavenward. There again the fairies were 
busy galloping hither and thither, showering 
their gems with generous hands, until every 
twig and needle was incrusted with beauty. 

“ Come, let us follow the Prince and see his 
artistic work upon the windows,” cried Prince 
Fay, but before Roy could respond the sound 
of the town bell rang out clear and insistent 
upon the chilly air. It was nine o’clock. 
“Quick! Quick!” shouted the fairy, sud- 
denly wheeling his horse. “ Your mother will 


104 Twilight Fairy Tales 

hear that bell, and will wonder if her boy is in 
bed. You have n’t a moment to lose.” 

Such a whirl and rush was enough to be- 
wilder the brain of a fairy, and as Roy was no 
fairy they seemed to blind and deafen him. He 
had a confused memory of darting up towards 
the stars, while the white plain and giant trees 
sank down, down, down beneath him ; of plung- 
ing into a deep, dark gorge, black beyond de- 
scription; of hurrying through the dim fairy 
palace, where he caught a glimpse of sleeping 
forms faintly illuminated by a pale ray of rosy 
light; and then his cloak fell off and was 
whirled away into the windy darkness, and he 
staggered out into — could it be? Yes, it was, 
his own schoolroom. 



105 










CHAPTER VII 

THE VISIT OF A TWO-EYED CHILD 

7 HY, my darling, my baby boy, why, 
V V you are not in bed yet, and no light 
burning! Well, I believe you have been asleep 
in the window-seat in the moonlight.” Mother 
had gathered her little boy to her heart and 
was covering his cold face with kisses. What 
had happened after that hurried ride from 
fairyland? Roy could hardly remember in 
those first, waking moments, but as he glanced 
towards the window, and saw the moonlight 
shining on a wondrous frost tracery of fern 
and leaves, he remembered ; and with the mem- 
ory came back the words of his fairy friend, 
“No, you are not sleeping, but you may 
have to fall asleep again before you leave 
fairyland.” 

Now he recalled how, on entering the school- 


107 


no Twilight Fairy Tales 

sleeping figure of the Princess Firelight, with 
one bright gem scintillating like a living spark 
on her hand. Roy leaned over and tried to 
look up the dark space above, down which a 
little breeze was whistling, but he failed in the 
effort and retired to the window seat, where 
he curled himself up and went to sleep. 

It was nice to feel mother near him, to hear 
the rustle of her dress, and to know she would 
soon tuck him up in an inviting, little, white 
bed; but when she turned on the light, it daz- 
zled him, and her expression of surprise 
startled him to full wakefulness. “ Why, 
what has my little boy been up to? Your face 
is all smudged with soot, and your little hands 
all cold and grimy.” 

Roy hurried to his room, and peered in the 
glass. True enough, he was a sight to be- 
hold. “ I think Prince Fay might have told 
me,” he cried, rather indignantly, “ but per- 
haps,” he added, “ I did it all when I went back 
to look at the palace just now.” Mother 
smiled, but of course she did not understand. 
She knew enough not to say, “ What nonsense 


The Visit of a Two-eyed Child hi 


you are talking! ” for she had herself had four 
eyes once, and she liked to use them all some- 
times even now. 

From the moment mother tucked him up in 
his little, white bed, to the time he was called 
for breakfast, seemed only one moment, so 
sound was his dreamless sleep; and when a 
flood of clear, golden sunlight broke into his 
room, as the shade went up, he could hardly 
believe it was already another day. 

It was a little hard to harness his mind down 
to lessons when Miss Sloane came on Monday. 
It was such a glorious day, with a splendid 
frosty crust on the snow, most tempting to one 
who loved coasting. What a fine flight it 
would be from the top to the bottom of the 
steep lawn, gliding down the incline almost too 
swiftly to breathe, until the final bump at the 
bottom. Roy, however, had in no way for- 
gotten his resolve to be good, to win his 
mother’s smile and pacify Miss Sloane; and 
there was also an added inducement, for was 
that not the only road to the after-reward — • 
Fairyland? 


r i2 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


Standing at the window while Miss Sloane 
laid aside her wraps, he saw, with the sunlight 
glistening on them, the wondrous tracery of 
leaf and fern and dainty lace-work so cleverly 
wrought by the silver spears. “ Well, the 
Frost Prince did his work splendidly,” he ex- 
claimed, forgetting his teacher’s presence. 
“ Yes,” said Miss Sloane, with a shiver, “ it 
is dreadfully cold out, and so slippery I could 
hardly keep my feet as I climbed the hill. I 
think, Roy, it would be highly proper and in- 
structing to read over the portion of your 
physical geography that relates to the action 
of frost and formation of snow-flakes.” 

This proposition was carried into effect, but 
was not at all gratifying or satisfying to Roy, 
with his new point of view on the subject. 
How tame were all these prosy arguments and 
explanations of blind mortals, after a thrilling 
night with the fairies! Of course it would not 
do to enlighten Miss Sloane and tell her of the 
glorious array of white-armoured knights on 
the snowy chargers, or of the gleaming store 
of diamonds. She was decidedly of the type 


The Visit of a Two-eyed Child 113 


of grown-ups very prone to use that objec- 
tionable word “ Nonsense,” with emphasis on 
both syllables. 

So Roy, without any comment on the wintry 
subject, plodded on through geography, his- 
tory, spelling, arithmetic and all the other steep 
but necessary steps to learning; and when 
work was over, went out with a bound to har- 
ness his sled to the wings of the wind, and send 
the fairy diamonds glittering in tiny, powdery 
clouds of brightness to right and left of the 
sharp runners. 

Time passes quickly when pursuits are con- 
genial, and Roy did not realise how long he 
had been coasting or how tired he was, until 
by an unlooked-for swerve of his sled he found 
himself unceremoniously dumped into a snow- 
bank. Having been thrown there against his 
will, he remained seated in the snowy nest, be- 
cause it was comfortable and because his eye 
was caught and mind diverted by the appear- 
ance of a carriage toiling up the drive. 

The horses may have been sharp-shod, but 
they stumbled nevertheless, and they should by 
8 


1 14 Twilight Fairy Tales 

rights have had a sleigh behind them instead 
of wheels. Out of the carriage window peered 
the face of a little boy, perhaps a couple of 
years older than Roy, and behind him that of 
a lady somewhat sharp and angular as to feat- 
ures and keen as to eyes, though they were 
aided by a pair of somewhat thick glasses, that 
made the persons stared at feel as if they were 
for the time being under the scrutiny of a 
microscope. 

Roy became aware that the snow was cold, 
that his appearance was wild and untidy, and 
that in his breast was a great desire to vanish 
to regions unfindable, for he felt certain that 
a caller with a boy would mean the need of 
his presence to aid in the entertaining of the 
visitors. The impulse to fly, however, was 
checked by the feeling that it would be hard 
on mother, so he dutifully dragged his sled up 
the hill to be ready when the call should come. 
It did come in about three minutes, and 
mother suggested in a whisper that he would 
better slip up-stairs and wash his hands and 
smooth the rebellious mop of hair. 


The Visit of a Two-eyed Child 115 


As she turned to re-enter the parlour, she 
stooped to kiss that untidy little head, and 
something in her face told Roy that she was 
not having a very good time of it. When he 
entered the parlour a little later, an animated 
discussion was evidently in progress. His 
mother hastened to introduce him to Mrs. 
Stark and her son, Hector, and in doing so 
tried to start the conversation on a new track. 
The attempt was a failure. Mrs. Stark be- 
lieved she was on a line of uttermost import- 
ance in the advanced and modern method of 
child training, and that this foolish mother 
must be set right. It chanced that Roy had 
left a copy of Grimm’s fairy tales on the par- 
lour table. It was a beloved volume, over 
which he pored on rainy days or when some 
slight ailment kept him in bed. 

It had been his mother’s when she was a lit- 
tle girl, and when he was far too little to read 
it himself his mother had often read him to 
sleep with that soothing rhythm of words that 
carried him over far stretches of country with 
the long-legged storks or swift swallows, into 


n6 Twilight Fairy Tales 

enchanted forests, through wondrous palaces, 
or into far-away, snowy climes. Now he be- 
held his much-treasured book on Mrs. Stark’s 
knee, and she was emphasising her remarks 
by tapping it with one long, energetic finger. 

“ As I was saying,” she continued, “ from 
his cradle, I have brought up my Hector on 
the strictest principles of truth and fact. No 
legend or fairy story has ever been in my house, 
and the foolish myths that are supposed to be 
amusing to children, such as the coming of 
Santa Claus, or the hunting for the Easter 
rabbit’s nest, I would not for a moment per- 
mit. My boy is a product of practical com- 
mon-sense teaching, and I believe any other 
course most pernicious to the young mind.” 

‘ Roy’s mother never cared for argument, but 
as she noted the angry flush on her little boy’s 
cheeks, and the flash of his eye, she interposed 
for fear he might spring in as her champion. 
“ My dear Mrs. Stark,” she said quietly, “ I 
am aware that there is a wide difference of 
opinion on this subject, but it has always 
seemed to me that imagination was one of the 



AMY RAHO 


OY'WEMT' OUT -WITH 
HIS* SLED 





The Visit of a Two-eyed Child 1 1 7 

blessed gifts of childhood, and that it is sweet 
to give it that which is wholesome, beautiful, 
and poetic to feed upon, or it may be devel- 
oped on wrong and dangerous lines.” 

“You are wrong, quite wrong,” exclaimed 
her visitor, “ everything must be sacrificed to 
truth and fact. What does a child want with 
imagination ? It makes them moon about and 
waste time. Then you are laying the founda- 
tion of scepticism. When the Santa Claus- 
taught child and the fairy-lore child find there 
are no such things in reality, they will conclude 
that there is no God or heaven, and all your 
other teaching will be questioned as untrue.” 

“ My mother is not,” began Roy, with burn- 
ing cheeks and clenched fists, but his words 
were cut short by a glance from mother; and 
she turned to Mrs. Stark with the remark, 
“ There is all the difference in the world be- 
tween faith and imagination; and while we 
teach our children reverently to believe in and 
love the realities their eyes cannot see, we can 
pray and hope that the blessed instinct of faith 
will develop in their young hearts, and prove 


ii8 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


a sure anchor. When we amuse them with 
their fairy tales, our manner and our explana- 
tions are so different, that they put them in 
their right light, as an amusement; and the 
enlightenment of years is not the shock you 
describe, for all along they never take the sub- 
ject very seriously. With your permission, 
we will not discuss the question further before 
our little folks. Let us agree to differ.” 

Without allowing time for an answer, Roy’s 
mother suggested that he take Hector out, so 
that they could have some fun together while 
she had a cup of tea with Mrs. Stark. The 
muffling up of the young visitor, and the hunt- 
ing up of Roy’s own, outer garments, which as 
usual he had mislaid, kept them busy for the 
next few minutes; and then the boys found 
themselves out in the crisp, cool air. 

Hector was a few inches taller, and a great 
many pounds heavier, than Roy; and his face 
had a sullen look that was not pleasant to see. 
During his mother’s exposition of her theories, 
he had sat staring about the room and swing- 
ing his legs back and forth under the chair. 


The Visit of a Two-eyed Child 119 


He sat behind his mother, and once or twice 
made anything but elegant faces at Roy. He 
brightened considerably when they got out, 
and they were soon both of them shouting at 
the top of their voices, as they glided swiftly 
over the frozen crust. 

44 Let ’s play that this is a fire engine, and 
that there is a hurried call and an awful fire 
down there in the Japanese quince bush. 
Come on. Jack, get the hose aboard.” 44 No,” 
shouted Hector, still panting from the steep 
climb , 44 that ’s tame. Let ’s play that we have 
wrecked a train and blown up the express car, 
and that the posse is after us. Spring on 
your horse, Jim, or those devils will catch us. 
See that the booty is safe in your saddle- 
bags.” 

So saying, Hector was off with a blood- 
curdling yell; and Roy, very much mystified, 
went shooting downward with the young ban- 
dit, vaguely imagining that a posse was some 
sort of a wild beast unknown to Thompson- 
Seton or Dr. Long. His shouts of 44 Hurry, 
boys I ” 44 Fly for your lives! ” were, however, 


120 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


quite up to the requirements, and the ride was 
thrilling in the extreme. 

“ Now,” said Hector, “ we will sit on our 
panting bronchos and rest. We have reached 
the mouth of the canon in which our cave 
is located, and we have time to hide the 
booty. Let the posse come now, and we will 
lure them into our fastness, and kill every 
mother’s son of them.” 

“What’s a posse?” asked Roy in wonder 
at this blood-thirsty threat. It must be a very 
dreadful beast to be thus exterminated, he 
thought, for his tender, little heart had always 
cried out against the death of even the fiercest 
wild things. — “A posse! you silly, don’t you 
know? Why, a posse is a lot of men who 
mount and ride after you to catch you when 
you are making off with the spoils, money, 
jewels and all sorts of things.” — “ Why do 
they want to catch you if you choose to take 
your money and things away with you?” — 
“ Oh! you baby, don’t you see? We are des- 
perate men. We have shot the engineer and 
expressman, derailed the engine, and got off 


The Visit of a Two-eyed Child 121 


with the money in the express car, thousands 
and thousands of dollars. You don’t know 
how to play. I guess you are only a baby 
still.” 

Roy rose in horror : “ That ’s stealing and 
murder, and I don’t want to play ; it ’s wicked, 
and if you want to kill the posse, I won’t ; it ’s 
awful.” “ Little goose,” said Hector, with 
much disdain, “ you like to play baby games. 
I don’t; there’s no fun in them.” 

“ I thought,” responded Roy, “ your mother 
did n’t let you read anything that was n’t true. 
You can’t make all that up in your own head.” 

“ Oh! mother would keep me reading history 
and lessons and lots of dry stuff all the time 
if she could, but she can’t, you see. I get the 
newspapers, and then I have a chum who gets 
books downtown, and we read them together. 
They are not fairy stories, not much! They 
are true, and they are very exciting; all about 
fights and adventures and killings, and boys 
that go out west and do all sorts of big deeds. 
We read them and then we act them, and some 
day, when I get money enough to start, I shall 


122 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


go off to that country myself. Ma won’t let 
me have a gun, but Henry’s going to get one. 
Then we ’ll go into the woods and shoot. It ’s 
lots of fun, you bet ! ” 

As Roy never read such books, he lost the 
purport of much that Hector said, and quite 
failed to see the fun in robbing, shooting, and 
killing. The thought of that severe-looking 
mother haunted him, however, and he said, “ I 
should think you would be afraid to tell your 
mother all that.” — “ Tell her! Well, I should 
think not. She would never give me any 
peace if she knew ; and besides women are n’t 
supposed to know about manly, desperate 
lives; they just stay at home and look after 
things.” 

This view of life was still more unaccount- 
able to the little boy whose mother always had 
been his confidante, and who always under- 
stood everything. “ Well, I don’t see how 
you do it. When you are playing, does n’t she 
see and hear you, and ask all about it? ” — “ Oh, 
yes, sometimes, and then I say it ’s history. 
The other evening Henry and I were holding 


The Visit of a Two-eyed Child 123 


up a stage in the mountains. He had just 
killed the driver, and I was tying the passen- 
gers to trees, for I was an Indian pal of his, 
and I was going to burn them alive; and Ma 
asked what this noise meant, and I said, ‘ We 
are acting Christopher Columbus, and we are 
shouting because we have just sighted land.’ 
You see, I had to say something.” 

“ You said that to your mother! you lied to 
her? ” exclaimed Roy in horror. “ I think you 
are a naughty, wicked boy; and if you are a 
visitor, I won’t play with you any more,” and 
Roy flung away indignant, and marching up 
to the house fled to his own room. From there 
he saw the guests depart, after overhearing 
Hector tell Mrs. Stark that the other boy 
wouldn’t play fair and sulked; while his own 
dear mother exclaimed in distress that she 
hoped her little boy had not been lacking in 
courtesy to his guest. Mrs. Stark had replied 
very kindly that she was sure it was only a 
childish disagreement; and it was quite natu- 
ral, because an imaginative child, accustomed 
to dwelling in the world of fancy, could not 


124 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


possibly appreciate the practical point of view 
of her dear matter-of-fact Hector. 

The closing of the door and the sound of 
departing wheels brought a storm-tossed and 
angry little boy to mother’s arms, where he 
sobbed out all his story, and was comforted as 
only mother arms and mother words can 
comfort. 



125 










CHAPTER VIII 

HOY ENTERS SHADOW-LAND 

T HE long winter days were passing slowly 
but surely. The comforting assurance 
had been given out that the ground-hog had 
not seen his shadow on the second of Feb- 
ruary; and that, in consequence, those whose 
eyes were weary of perpetual snow and ice 
might look for an early spring. Roy had 
ranged the woods behind his home with the 
earnest hope of seeing his hogship on the mem- 
orable day, but had signally failed; for all 
the forest life he could discern with all his 
eager scrutiny was the flash of a blue- jay’s 
wing, or the darting form of some red squir- 
rel, with now and then the shadowy form of 
his grey brother passing from limb to limb of 
the great lichen-covered trees. 

Now the snow was gone, save a touch or two 

127 


128 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


in some dark, sheltered corner, and the grass 
was taking on a greenish tinge ; while one could 
almost imagine a hint of red was on the tips 
of the maple trees. The sunshine, with some- 
thing more of warmth and dryness than it 
had given of late, was flooding nature; and 
yet our little boy was not out in the garden, 
though the open door of the schoolroom showed 
it to be empty, and no lesson books were on 
the table. 

Roy was not far away, however, for in the 
sunny brightness of mother’s room a little 
figure was wrapped up on the lounge, and a 
very flushed little face lay on the pillow. It 
had been a strange night of disturbed dreams. 
Mother, through the open door, had heard him 
turning and tossing. He had awakened very 
cold, and she had tucked him up with extra 
coverings and turned his pillow. Next time 
he cried out in some suffocating terror, she 
found he was burning hot, and she had had to 
give him water. 

When morning light crept through his win- 
dow, he was wide awake, but his head was 


Roy Enters Shadow-land 129 

heavy, and he had a desperate sense of loneli- 
ness and a longing for comfort. That was 
why mother felt a little, hot hand clinging 
around her neck, and a soft, little body cud- 
dling into her arms with the old, baby instinct, 
that knew just how to settle down cosily into 
the arms God gave as shield and resting place. 
Roy felt better then, as he dozed off with the 
feeling of mother’s kiss on his brow, her arms 
holding him close, and the nice, cool, linen 
sheets under his restless little toes. 

When he awoke again, he was alone in a nest 
of pillows. Mother was dressed, and stood 
by with some tempting breakfast on a tray. 
Tempting, did I say? Roy knew it ought to 
be, and at other times would have been ; and it 
was so disappointing to feel so sick at the very 
sight of it that he burst out crying and sobbed 
in the pillow in a helpless, hopeless sort of way. 
At the sound of this wail of woe, the dressing- 
room door opened, and papa entered, razor in 
hand, with a soap- whitened face, at the sight 
of which tears were changed to laughter; but 
it was almost a pitiful sound, for it was weak 


9 


130 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


and uncontrolled and hurt him as much as the 
sobs and tears had done. 

Mother put aside the breakfast, and sitting 
on the bed gathered the little, quivering figure 
to her heart. “ My boy is sick,” she said 
soothingly, “ he shall have only what he wants 
to eat; and mother will sit and read and play 
with him all day.” — “ I ’d be all right if I was 
not so hot and my head did n’t ache so, and if 
my throat was not so dry and my eyes smart- 
ing.” — “ That ’s quite enough of a list to make 
you feel miserable, my darling; but think, is 
there anything you fancy?” 

A long pause followed mother ’s sugges- 
tion. “ Force would suffocate me; eggs 
would make me sick; bread is so dry, and I 
could n’t bear the smell of coff ee. I used to 
like steak, but to-day I don’t like to think of 
it. I don’t believe there are any good things 
in the world for little boys to eat.” Mother 
answered Roy’s wail with a suggestion of 
grape-fruit, with nice little pieces of cracked 
ice in it. That was a happy thought; and 
after this breakfast he felt better and insisted 


Roy Enters Shadow-land 131 


on being dressed and tucked up on mother’s 
couch near the window. 

From there he could look out on the spread- 
ing branches of the great tulip trees, that 
formed a lace-work against a very blue sky. 
His attention was occupied for some time 
watching a bevy of merry little chickadees 
whirling and pirouetting from twig to twig. 
Their cheery note came in to him as of glad 
greeting, and they seemed well pleased with 
the signs of the passing of winter ; though that 
passing would mean their flight to further 
northern regions. 

Roy heard his mother at the telephone, and, 
catching the drift of the one-sided conversa- 
tion, he guessed she ’d rung up the doctor. 
When she came with a book to sit at his side, 
he remarked somewhat petulantly: “Mother, 
I don’t want Doctor Newton. He ’ll only 
give me a red medicine, and I hate it ; and I ’ll 
be much sicker, because I just can’t and 
won’t take the horrid stuff.” This declaration 
was best unanswered. 

His mother took up her book and began to 


i3 2 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


read to him. The book she chose was about 
the birth of little Mas-ki-sis, the Indian chief’s 
boy, who came to their tepee in the moon of the 
blood-lilies; and as her voice rose and fell, de- 
scribing the forests and prairies, Roy’s weary 
eyes closed, and hours passed before he was 
again awake to the real things about him; 
though his brain was weaving the wildest pic- 
tures, and marvellous, changing scenes came 
and went, like the moving pictures of a 
cinematograph. 

When he awoke, Doctor Newton was sit- 
ting by his bedside, holding his hand. Me- 
chanically he obeyed all the doctor’s orders, 
and then shut his eyes again, and his mother’s 
voice seemed to come from farther and farther 
away; and then he became conscious only of a 
pumping, surging sound. It must be the 
sound of a water-wheel in some mighty tor- 
rent. He would walk and walk until he came 
to it, for he was very thirsty, and this must be 
a desert. It was dark and hot and dry. The 
way seemed very steep and must be very, very 
long, for his feet were growing more and more 


Roy Enters Shadow-land 133 

tired and his head was weary too, but the noise 
of the distant torrent was always there, surg- 
ing and swirling. He would never reach it. 
He must sink down where he was, and as he 
thought of it he groaned, for he was so 
thirsty. 

Then he felt some one kiss his brow and cool 
it, and he opened his eyes and saw he was in 
his mother’s room, and she was bending over 
him holding a spoon to his lips. He must have 
been dreaming, for it was evening now. Sun- 
set lights were in the sky, and shadows in the 
corner of the room. He was in his own little 
bed too, and many things that he hardly un- 
derstood had been done to change the room. 
There was some one else there also, and as she 
stepped close to the window to examine a ther- 
mometer she held in her hand, he understood 
by her uniform, with its spotless apron and 
cap, that she was a trained nurse. 

Yes, poor little Roy was sick, very sick; and 
his flushed cheek and dull eyes and strange, 
wild dreams were the danger signals of a fever 
that was to give his mother long weeks of 


134 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


anxious nursing, and was to fill the bright, 
sunny, little life with the shadow of delirium 
and suffering. 

Night and day glided into each other with- 
out any clear line of demarkation. The sun- 
light had to be kept from glaring upon the 
tired, little eyes by day, and the electric lights 
were shaded at night, so that the room was 
almost always like twilight when Roy woke 
sufficiently to notice it. If the light was 
brighter, there were strange things that 
troubled him. He saw countless faces in the 
pattern of the wall-paper, and things about the 
room had a way of gliding towards him and 
shutting him in, if he looked at them 
steadily. 

This he explained to his mother, and she put 
a screen at the foot of his little bed. That 
made things better for a time, but it too 
troubled him after a while. It was a Japanese 
screen, black with gold embroidered leaves and 
birds. These birds must have been storks, for 
they had very long legs and sharp bills; and 
one evening, while Roy’s head was throbbing 


Roy Enters Shadow-land 135 


badly and the roaring of the stream was un- 
usually loud, he saw these wretched birds begin 
to hop up and down. At first he thought 
it funny; then he became angry, for they 
seemed to be mocking him. At last he was 
frightened and troubled and burst out crying. 
Mother had him in her arms in a moment and 
tried to understand what he meant by 4 4 The 
horrid, horrid birds will keep dancing all the 
time. Take them away; I can’t stand it.” 
At first she thought they were dream birds, 
pure and simple, but as the thin, little hand 
pointed at the golden storks, she understood 
the trick that the fever was playing with those 
poor, bright eyes, that looked up to her out 
of such a wan, shadowy, little face; and she 
carried the screen away. 

Mother had to read and sing a great deal 
those days. She knew her little boy could not 
follow or understand the reading, but the 
sound of her voice quieted him and kept out 
other sounds that teased him, like his deliri- 
ous fancies. She was not much of a singer, 
but in these days of suff ering, he had a longing 


136 Twilight Fairy Tales 

for the old lullabies of baby days, and they 
often sent him to sleep, though he wondered 
why mother’s voice sometimes shook and 
quavered; and other times he would turn to 
discover that tears were falling on her pretty 
dress. 

That was another thing that Roy had to 
have during those long days. Mother must 
wear all the dresses he liked most. There was 
a soft, grey one, that swished and sighed as she 
crossed the room; and a white, fluffy one, and 
a light blue wrapper with lace for the long 
nights. Mother wanted to wear a simple wash 
dress like the nurse, but her little boy had very 
strong ideas on the subject, and he got his 
way. In fact, I think she would have dressed 
in anything under the sun that Roy happened 
to fancy, if it could help for a moment to 
comfort her darling, who seemed to be so 
nearly slipping away from her through the 
land of shadows. 

Then there came a dreadful night. Papa 
was in the room too, and the doctor stayed in- 
stead of going away as usual after the call. 


Roy Enters Shadow-land 


i37 


Mother knelt by the bed for hours, with her 
head on the pillow; and Roy felt so strange 
and weak and frightened that he begged her 
to hold him; and she put her arms over him 
and said between her sobs: “ Yes, my precious, 
if mother’s love and prayers can hold you, 
you shall be held tight; I can’t, I can’t let 
you go.” 

It seemed every few minutes that the doctor 
did something or other to him, or made him 
swallow things; and it was so hard, for he just 
wanted to be left alone. At last, when it was 
near morning, he felt a lovely, quiet, comfort- 
able feeling stealing over him, and he turned 
to kiss his mother’s head on the pillow beside 
him; and then he drifted off to sleep. He 
was far away in dreamland when mother’s 
arms unclasped, and she slipped to the floor 
in a dead faint, and papa had to carry her 
away. And he did not hear the doctor say to 
the nurse, “ If he sleeps well on into the morn- 
ing, we may save him yet; this is the crisis.” 

They waited and watched, but Roy in 
dreamland was launching a boat out into a 


133 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


beautiful, blue lake. Sunlight sparkled on the 
water, and white swans sailed in the shallows, 
looking down on their own, graceful reflec- 
tions. As the boat glided out, he sprang in; 
and as he settled himself on its crimson cush- 
ions he noticed how the water-lilies parted on 
either side to let it through. There were no 
oars in the boat, but Roy did not much care, 
for the breeze that fanned his cheek was so full 
of the damp sweetness of the woods. 

One could imagine the mossy nooks where 
that breeze had played, filled with delicate 
fronds of pale green ferns springing from the 
carpet of the forest. One could imagine it 
had been playing with the veil of mist from the 
grey rocks near some little water-fall, helping 
the stray sunbeam to change it into a fairy 
rainbow. Now that breezelet was playing 
through Roy’s hair, and it seemed to leave 
there some drops from the forest stream, so 
cool and refreshing was its touch. 

Roy did not hear the doctor whisper, 
“ Thank God, his brow is moist and his respira- 
tion decidedly better,” for the same little, 


Roy Enters Shadow-land 139 


breeze was singing to him, and it was like the 
sound of fairy harps, with here and there the 
note of a distant hunting horn. The boat was 
moving steadly, swiftly, over the shining lake. 
Raising himself to see the power that moved 
his sailless, oarless boat, he saw that six beauti- 
ful swans were harnessed to it by golden rib- 
bons. They were not the white swans that had 
been sailing so peacefully in the shallows, but 
black ones with bright red bills; and the sun- 
light on their rare plummage made it glow 
with an iridescent sheen like the gloss on a 
black pearl shell. 

He was too comfortable to move; too con- 
tented to question; so he just glided on. By 
and by he noticed that a flock of gorgeous 
butterflies was following him, and as they came 
nearer they parted, completely surrounding 
the boat, and on a closer view he saw that the 
escort was not of winged insects only, but that 
on each one a tiny figure rode, closely corre- 
sponding in the colour of its flimsy dress to 
that of its flying steed. 

With a cheery laugh Roy hailed them. “ So 


i4° Twilight Fairy Tales 

this is Fairyland again,” he said, and a voice 
at his elbow answered, “ The land of the dream 
fairies, to which we carry the children who love 
us and think of us often, and from which they 
always go back better and brighter because of 
the beautiful things they see and hear.” “ But 
I don’t want to go back,” said Boy, turning to 
look for his companion. He was a little, old 
man, with snowy locks and a long, white beard, 
but such merry eyes and rosy cheeks that he 
hardly looked old. A crown glittered on his 
head, and his long cloak was of purple velvet, 
bordered with ermine. 

Boy was not at all surprised or startled to 
see him there, and was glad of his company, 
for he felt sure this new friend would guide 
him safely through the land into which he was 
gliding so peacefully. “ You have had a hard 
time, little Boy,” continued the Dream King, 
“ and I am glad to have you with me for a 
while. I had your mother once when she was 
a little girl, and I have waited long for you; 
but I ’m sorry you had to come through such 
a dark gate of sickness. When you go back, 


Roy Enters Shadow-land 141 


we will see to it that you pass into the world of 
‘ is ’ by a safer, easier way.” 

“ What is this lake? ” asked Roy, not quite 
understanding the fairy’s allusion to gates, as 
he did not remember any. “It is the Lake 
of Peace, and it is fed by the River of Slum- 
ber. Its waters lead through many other 
streams to the Sea of Health. We will stop 
soon at my palace, and you shall see such 
sights as your eyes have never looked upon 
before.” So saying, he went to the prow of 
the boat and lifted the golden reins. In a 
moment the six black swans rose on the wing, 
and the boat rose with them. In some myste- 
rious way it seemed to change from a boat to 
a chariot. Beneath it on either side, and be- 
hind it also, Roy saw the outstretched wings of 
the six black swans, and down far, far below 
them was the lake. 

On, on they went until the lake vanished, 
and the waving tops of trees swayed below 
them, like a green and silver ocean, and before 
them lay a glorious range of blue and purple 
mountains. Over this range they sailed, and 


142 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


then with a whir of wings began to sink down- 
ward. Looking over the edge of his boat or 
chariot, Roy could see a great stretch of green 
valley nestling between the rocky heights ; and 
a nearer view showed parks and gardens, in 
the midst of which was a white palace with 
turrets and minarets touched with gold. 

Sinking back on his downy seat, he sighed 
with contentment, “ Well, I ’m glad I came.” 



143 





CHAPTER IX 


THE DREAM QUEERS PALACE 

T HE boat, or chariot as it seemed now to 
be, stopped at the foot of a long, 
sweeping flight of stairs. They were wonder- 
ful steps, made of onyx. Roy had often 
admired the piece which his father used as a 
paper-weight, and so recognised the same 
translucent clearness and rosy tints as he 
looked at the stairs beneath his feet. The 
King, who had helped him alight, took his 
hand and smiling at him kindly said, “ Let us 
come, you must be hungry.” 

Roy noticed that the fairy was now taller 
than himself, or was it that he had grown down 
to fairy size on touching the ground of this 
enchanted land? Not stopping to puzzle it 
out, he climbed the first, long flight of steps, 
and was aware that a whole bevy of gay fairy 

I45_ 


io 


146 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


forms was escorting him. He reached a wide, 
marble terrace, in the midst of which was a 
great fountain. 

“ Let us rest here,” he pleaded, and sat down 
on the edge of the onyx basin. As he looked 
into the depths of the clear water, he saw a 
floor of golden sand, and little caves or grot- 
toes of spar and crystal. Beautiful fern-like 
growths waved in the clear water, and every- 
where gold, silver, and steel-blue fish swam 
and sported. He dabbled his hand in the wa- 
ter, and instead of their flashing away, the fish 
swam to him and stroked his fingers with their 
soft, shiny tails. Looking up he saw a beau- 
tiful column of white spray from the fountain, 
shooting into the sunlight ; and sunbeams, 
catching the falling drops, made them gleam 
like a shower of opals. 

“ Are you rested, little boy? ” asked his 
friend, and Roy did feel himself so much 
rested that he danced up the next flight of 
steps with laughter on his lips. It was good 
to feel well again, for he had been so weak and 
so tired. 





The Dream Queen’s Palace 147 


There was another terrace, and this was of 
grass, as smooth as velvet and bright with 
flower beds ; while round the marble balustrade 
roses trailed in luxuriant growth, lifting blos- 
soms of every tint to fill the air with fragrance. 
Here again Roy wanted to rest, but his resting 
took the form of running from rose to rose 
and holding the cool, dewy blossoms close to 
his face, glorying in the pale tints and glori- 
ous blood-red colours. Bright-hued humming 
birds darted hither and thither or rose on 
vibrating wings; and when Roy stretched out 
his hands to them, they came and touched his 
fingers with their beaks, and even lighted for 
a moment that he might see their ruby-decked 
throats and smooth the iridescent plumage of 
their outstretched wings. 

“ Come on, Roy,” said his host, helping him 
to the last flight of stairs; and when he had 
mounted it, he saw a great array of fairy court- 
iers gathered around a queenly figure, clothed 
in white, her robes all embroidered with golden 
lilies. The crown upon her head was studded 
with opals, that looked like dewdrops touched 


148 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


with the sunlight. She stretched out her hand 
to Roy, and when he would have fallen on one 
knee to kiss it in real cavalier fashion, she drew 
him to her arms and kissed his eyelids. 

“ Dear little boy, thrice welcome. We are 
no strangers, but you have come to us through 
a very dark, desert road, and you shall have 
all the pleasure the palace can give you.” Plac- 
ing her hand on his shoulder, she led the way 
to a part of the terrace that was covered in 
by silver arches, which sheltered long tables, 
glittering with cut glass, gold and silver plate, 
and decked with flowers. 

Sitting beside the Queen, he watched the 
merry, graceful courtiers that gathered around 
the tables; and then, as strains of music came 
floating from an orchestra hidden amid ferns 
and flowers, he dined on the most delicious 
viands he had ever tasted. All through those 
days of fever, he had not wanted to eat, and 
the taste of medicines was forever in his mouth. 
What a delightful change this was! It was 
good to feel hungry, and good to have every- 
thing you could possibly want to satisfy that 
hunger. 


The Dream Queen's Palace 149 

“Now, Roy,” said the Dreamland Queen, 
when he had finished, “ if you will come with 
me, I will show you some of the beauties of 
the palace; and then you shall ride back into 
the wide-awake world, where your dear mother 
will be waiting for you.” Roy followed her 
through the great, golden gates of the palace, 
designed of curiously wrought, twisted drag- 
ons, into the wide hall, cool and shady. Rose 
colour was the prevailing tint. It fluttered in 
the curtains, smiled from soft, inviting divans, 
and cheered you as you looked at the long 
flight of stairs, which were carpeted with it in 
thick, velvety textures. 

Electric lights gleamed from half-open rose 
buds, and the sound of trickling water came 
from a tiny fountain, that emptied itself into a 
pink marble basin. There were plants with 
delicate foliage and fragrant blossom in one 
corner of the hall; and from among them the 
sound of a bird’s sweet notes rose liquid and 
clear. “ That is a nightingale, Roy. You 
have never heard one, but you have read of 
them. They are first cousins to the mocking 
bird, and they love the land of dreams. They 


150 Twilight Fairy Tales 

sing only in the night, and that one is singing 
a dream song now.” 

“ This is lovely,” exclaimed our little boy 
with a sigh of pleasure. “ I wish mother was 
here. She is so tired, and this would rest her.” 

“ Yes, Roy, I have just been thinking that; 
and after you get home, she shall come. She 
has not been with us for a long time, and her 
eyes are heavy. She was too anxious about 
her little boy to enter this hall of rose-colour 
dreams; but before long she will come, and I 
will see that our birds sing sweetly to her, and 
we will send her back to you happy and 
rested.” 

So saying, the Queen passed on to the stairs 
and led Roy upward. He noticed that, while 
he was walking, he seemed also to float, and 
that the sensation was something like the mo- 
tion of his boat on the Lake of Peace. “ You 
shall see our nursery first,” said his hostess, 
“ for this was the place where your mother 
first saw you.” So saying, she opened a door 
to a long, light room, so long that it seemed 
almost to have no ending. 


The Dream Queen’s Palace 15 1 

The walls were of a creamy whiteness; the 
doors and wainscoting of mother-of-pearl, and 
the chairs and tables carved in white ivory. 
White velvet carpeted the floor, and white satin 
swayed at the windows; and everywhere were 
little, white cots and cradles, beautifully carved 
in mother-of-pearl. From one to another the 
Queen glided smilingly ; and Roy tiptoed after 
her, with eyes wide with wonder. In most of 
the cots a tiny, wee baby lay sleeping. Little, 
pink hands were outstretched on the white bed- 
spreads, and curly heads nestled in the pillows. 
They were all waiting to be some mother’s 
dream children. 

Coming at last to a little empty bed, the 
fairy turned and whispered, “ There, Roy, 
years ago, with a hungry heart, your dear 
mother came and saw you. She loved you so 
that every night she came, and came again, 
and sat and watched you until one day you 
went away with her. I saw her kiss you, as 
I lingered in her room in your own home the 
day you were born ; and as she did so, I heard 
her say to your father, 4 Are you sure I ’m 


52 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


not dreaming? It seems too good to be true.’ 
And as he looked down upon you, nestling in 
her arms, he said, 4 He ’s a very substantial 
little dream, anyway ’ ; but he did not know, 
as I did, how often she had seen you here, and 
how wonderful it was to her to see you with 
waking eyes in the land of ‘ is.’ ” 

“Do all these babies go away as I did?” 
asked Roy. “ No, there are some that stay 
here always. Their mothers long for them 
and love them, but cannot take them away 
They are just little dream children always. 
Sometimes they grow bigger and play with 
their mothers and love them, and try to com- 
fort them; but the mothers often cry when 
they go away, and the tears turn to pearls, 
and the babies make chains of them and wear 
them, and they are very precious and very 
beautiful.” 

Opening another door, she led Roy into a 
gorgeous apartment, the walls of which were 
hung with tapestries. Thick Turkish rugs were 
spread on the dark wood floors, and the elec- 
tric lamps were shaded with globes wondrously 


The Dream Queen’s Palace 


i53 


inlaid with rubies and emeralds. This room 
was filled with great, oak chests; and as the 
fairy touched them, they flew open, and 
showed piles and piles of gold and silver coins 
and precious gems of every sort. A heavy in- 
cense filled the air, and Roy was somewhat be- 
wildered to know what there was here of 
interest, compared with the rose and white 
sweetness that he had left. 

“ This,” said the fairy, “ is the dream room 
that people visit who are hungry for wealth. 
They play here with the gold and jewels, and 
it makes some of them happy for a time; but 
when I have watched them in the waking 
world, I have noticed that it does not make 
them any more contented there ; and altogether 
I would rather not have to unlock the door for 
them, but when they knock I cannot help it, 
for they receive in my country what their heart 
is the most set on in the other world.” 

Leading him out, she crossed a hall-way and 
opened another door. Turning, with a smile 
she said, “ This is a brighter, better place, lit- 
tle boy.” It was indeed. The prevailing 


154 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


colour was blue, and such a blue ! like the newly 
washed sky on an April day. The doors and 
window frames were of crystal, and the furni- 
ture of silver filigree. Clear, bright, bird notes 
rose and fell in a perfect ecstasy of song; and 
the scent of spring flowers was in the air. 

“ That ’s a skylark singing; and if you will 
look up, you will see that the roof of this room 
has to be very, very high, for that little joy 
bird can only sing on the wing, and he is ever 
soaring upward and sending down his glad 
notes to the listeners below.” Indeed, Roy 
could not see the roof at all, for as he looked 
up, there were only blue heights above and 
glistening lights as of diamond stars, that 
seemed to smile upon him. 

Roy felt like singing too, he was so happy; 
and turning to his friend, he asked, “ What do 
you call this room? ” “ Hope’s Dreamland,” 

she answered. “ I have had your mother here 
once or twice since you were sick; and after 
you go home, I shall bring her here again, 
straight from the rose-coloured hall, for she 
needs to rest here, and tune her heart to the 


The Dream Queen’s Palace 155 


song of my little bird. It will make her eyes 
bright again and her voice merry.” 

Through the silver and blue room, Roy fol- 
lowed his friend down a long flight of stairs, 
and wondered rather at seeing the light fade 
and strange violet-hued shadows surround 
them. The silvery laugh of the fairy at his 
side reassured him, as she said, “ Now, Roy, 
you must not be afraid, for I am going to 
show you the dream dungeons under my pal- 
ace, and there are strange things there that I 
have to keep sometimes, though I do not like 
them at all.” 

The stairs grew so dark that Roy stopped, 
and could go on only as the Dream Queen took 
his hand in hers. The next moment, she 
opened an iron door, and they entered a long 
corridor, bounded on either side by iron cages. 
In these cages were lions and tigers, snakes and 
spiders of awful size and shape; almost every 
living creature imaginable, but all of them so 
monstrous and grotesque that they looked un- 
canny. They had, moreover, the power to 
grow bigger and bigger, and then dwindle 


1 56 Twilight Fairy Tales 

away until your eyes strained in trying to 
keep track of them. Some of them groaned 
and roared, or cried and wailed; while others 
were frightfully silent and just gazed at you 
with great, staring eyes, until you wished they 
would make a noise and break the spell. 

“ Oh! what are these dreadful things? ” Roy 
asked in a frightened whisper. “ Night- 
mares,’ ’ answered the Queen with a smile. 
“ They generally visit the little boys that eat 
too much cake and candy, and go to the older 
folks who indulge in things that are not good 
for them too late at night. But come on ; time 
is flying, and there is something I want you to 
see at the very end of the passage.” 

As they reached the last cage, Roy, looking 
in, saw some poor, mournful-looking, long-leg- 
ged storks. Their plumage had been golden, 
but it looked dull. Their long necks drooped 
dejectedly. Behind them, leaning against 
the wall, were some pale pink roses, with faded 
leaves and withered petals. “ Do you know 
them, Roy? ” said the Queen. “ I had to lock 
them up here because they teased you. The 


The Dream Queen’s Palace 157 

storks are from your mother’s Japanese 
screen, and the roses from the wall-paper. The 
former annoyed you by hopping and flapping 
their wings ; and the latter you said made faces 
at you. Do you think, little boy, that you can 
forgive them? ” “ Indeed I can,” said Roy 

heartily, “ poor things! do let them go.” “ You 
shall do that,” said the Dream Queen, and 
opening a door in the cage, she led him in. 
“ Take this key,” she said, 4 4 and open the door 
to your right. It will let them out into the 
sunshine.” He did so, and in a moment the 
place was flooded with golden glory. Roy 
looked over the green valley and the blue hills 
beyond. 44 You may go home,” he said to the 
storks. 44 All but one,” added the Queen, 
44 and take the roses with you.” Thereupon, 
each stork stretched and flapped his wings, and 
picking up a pink rose, the petals and leaves 
of which had brightened and freshened under 
the sun’s influence, they marched solemnly to 
the door. Then with an upward sweep of 
their wings they sailed away, their golden 
plumage gleaming in the sunshine. 


158 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


“ Now, little boy, there is one more place 
that you must visit, and then you too must 
fly away home.” So saying, the fairy led him 
down a flight of marble steps into a marvellous 
greenhouse, where grew the wildest profusion 
of flowers. Roy noticed that the one stork 
that had been retained was marching along 
behind them, and he wondered whether his 
place on the screen would be a blank when he 
next looked at it from his little bed. 

In the midst of the conservatory was a great 
shining pool of the clearest water, and there 
the Dream Queen stopped. “ Roy,” she said, 
“ just as wide-awake people, when they shut 
their eyes and drift away to this fairy realm 
of mine, can see the things they want to see 
or are obliged to see, so there is one place 
here, where from the land of dreams you can 
look back at the waking world. What would 
you like most to see?” Unhesitatingly one 
word sprang to Roy’s lips, — “ Mother.” The 
fairy smiled; “All right, little boy; you can 
have only one wish, but you have chosen well. 
Look down into the depth of the pool, and tell 
me what you see.” 


The Dream Queen’s Palace 159 


Roy obeyed, and as he gazed into the clear 
water it became cloudy, and then the cloud 
parted and rolled back on either side like two 
great curtains, and there he saw his mother. 
She was not lying asleep, as he expected, but 
was kneeling by the window of her room, pray- 
ing. The light of the rising sun fell on her 
face, and it was white and troubled. Her lips 
moved and her eyes were closed, but from be- 
neath the lashes tears fell, one after the other. 
As the sunlight touched them, Roy thought 
how the dream babies would like to catch them 
and string them as pearls ; they looked so beau- 
tiful. Tears came to his own eyes, and turn- 
ing to the fairy he said, “ I want to go home 
to her.” “ All right, little Roy,” she said, “ it 
is a long journey, but the golden stork will 
carry you safely. Good-bye, and come again. 
You will always be welcome.” 

The next moment the great, glass doors of 
the greenhouse flew open before them; and 
Roy, between the outstretched golden wings, 
was sailing over valley and mountain, lake and 
plain, with the sweet, soft breeze fanning his 
cheeks. Now the stork was sinking slowly 


160 Twilight Fairy Tales 

but surely. What was that speck below them? 
Lower and lower they sank. Yes, it was a 
house surrounded by trees, with the first, soft 
tint of spring upon them. The big, green lawn 
spread out in front; and surely, yes surely., 
Roy recognised it. It was home. 

A moment the golden wings paused outside 
the window, and Roy, looking in, saw his little 
bed; and could it be himself lying asleep on 
the pillow? The nurse sat in the chair. The 
doctor was mixing something in a glass on the 
table ; and through the open door into the next 
room he could see his mother still praying. 
Sunshine was in the room. The lark’s song 
was in his heart, and Roy laughed a merry, 
happy laugh, and with it he awoke. 



l6i 









CHAPTER X 


PRINCE FAY IN EVIDENCE AGAIN 


“ TV OTHER! Mother! ” The little voice 

IV J. was weaker than when it sounded by 
the deep, still pool in Dreamland; but it was 
joyful and followed well that little, waking 
laugh. Need I say there was a quick rustle 
of skirts? And in a moment loving arms, the 
tenderest arms in the world to him, were round 
the little, weak, thin body. 

Doctor Newton, looking over her head, 
smiled down at his little patient. “ Well done, 
Roy, you ’ve slept away the fever; and waking 
with a laugh is a mighty good sign. Now I 
guess you ’ll be getting hungry next.” “ I ’m 
hungry now,” Roy answered; and then he whis- 
pered, “ Mother, I ’ve been to the land of the 
dream fairies, and it ’s lovely; but I saw you 
praying, and your tears were like pearls, and 

163 


164 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


I had to hurry back.” “ Yes, pet,” she said, 
kissing him, “ I know all about that lovely 
place. I prayed that you might sleep, and 
that your dreams might be sweet, for I knew 
if you did, you would wake up better.” 

And Roy was better, wonderfully better 
from that hour. At first he was very weak 
and often weary. The medicine tasted bad, 
and the bed made his little bones ache; but 
when he slept, it always did him good; and 
often he floated on white clouds in a blue sky, 
and heard the lark sing; and sometimes he lay 
on a rose-coloured one, and was carried by the 
storks to the gates of the sunset ; while at other 
times he heard the music of the fountain, but 
they were only little scraps of dreams, and he 
could not recall them well on waking. Per- 
haps it was because he saw the light as he 
opened his eyes; for they say that that makes 
you forget all the wonders of Dreamland. 

As his strength came back, he began to take 
a greater interest in life. He could see from 
the window that a tinge of green and red was 
on the trees, and he guessed that the birds he 


Prince Eay in Evidence Again 165 


loved would soon be home. “ Mother,” he 
asked one day, “ are your bulbs coming up in 
the garden? ” “Not yet, darling, but I soon 
expect to see their little, green heads pushing 
up under the leaves. I hope you will be up 
by the time that I have to uncover them.” “ I 
shall be so glad,” he sighed. “ I love them all, 
and I want to he out among them when they 
bloom; shall I? ” “ Yes, indeed you will,” she 

answered, “ and now I will go and see whether 
I cannot get something pretty from the green- 
house. I Ve been afraid to bring flowers to 
your room before, because you had such an 
aching little head that the doctor thought the 
fragrance would be too strong for you.” 

Turning at the door, his mother asked, 
“ What would you like most? ” “ A white 

azalea,” he answered, “ is there one in bloom? ” 
and then he smiled and hoped, oh ! so ardently, 
that among the leaves he might catch sight of 
a tiny, green cap with a humming bird’s 
feather stuck jauntily on one side. 

Mother was called to the telephone almost 
as soon as she had told the gardener her errand, 


1 66 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


so it was the old Irishman himself who tiptoed 
into the room with his wrinkled face all puck- 
ered into a smile, and a beautiful bloom- 
sovered bush in his arms. “ Sure, and it ’s 
myself that is glad to see you, Mister Roy,” he 
said, putting it down on the table; “you’ve 
been mighty sick, as they tell me ; but it ’s 
yourself as will be soon down teasing old J ohn 
again. God bless your white, little soul.” He 
had to feel his way out again, so dim were his 
old eyes with tears; and he quite forgot how 
he had of old grumbled at this same little boy 
when he was rosy and rollicking, and prone to 
leave the greenhouse doors open, for the sight 
of the pale face and thin, little hands tugged 
at his heartstrings, tough as they generally 
were. 

When J ohn was gone, Roy turned anxiously 
to the plant. He loved flowers, but there was 
something he wanted far more, — the merry 
comradeship of the fairy Prince. At first he 
saw nothing. Each white bud and flower 
gazed placidly up, but no little, green figure 
poised itself upon them. Had he lost the way 


Prince Fay in Evidence Again 167 

to Fairyland? Surely he had tried hard to be 
good and patient during these weary days of 
convalescence. He had swallowed Doctor 
Newton’s medicine uncomplainingly. He 
had eaten what they said was good for him. 
He had tried to be thoughtful for mother; and 
though he had learned no lessons so far as 
books were concerned, nobody wanted him to, 
now that he was so sick. 

Again he gazed at the plant. How could he 
tell that Prince F ay had ever made his home in 
this particular azalea? He might have been in 
any other of the several hundred plants that 
filled the greenhouse. Just at that moment 
something gleamed in the leaves and fell on 
the earth in the pot. It was a tiny, silver hunt- 
ing horn. Yes, there was no mistaking it. 
Roy held his breath. Next he saw two little 
shoes waving vigorously from under the leaves, 
and then the Prince’s green-capped figure 
sprang out onto the stem, and he let himself 
down very carefully, monkey fashion, until 
he stood on firm soil beside the silver horn, 
which he immediately picked up and dusted 
tenderly. 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


1 68 

“ Well, Roy,” he said cheerily, “ you have 
been a very sick little boy, and you came very 
near leaving earthland and fairyland behind 
you, and we have all been very anxious about 
you.” “ Have you?” Roy said. “Why, I 
did n’t suppose you knew anything about it.” 
“Didn’t suppose I knew? Why, of course 
I did. My cousins, the dream fairies, used to 
give me news every night when I visited them ; 
and if they had not, old John was always mum- 
bling and grumbling about it over his flowers ; 
and sometimes your mother would come by, 
and one look at her face always told the tale.” 

“ Well, now you ’ve come, Prince Fay,” said 
Roy, “ I hope you will help amuse me ; and 
whatever happens, don’t go away again.” “ I 
can’t promise that,” said the fairy, bounding 
from the flower-pot to the top of the medicine 
bottle, and settling himself comfortably, Turk 
fashion, on top of the cork. “ I must stay 
close to the white azalea. If they take it away 
at night, I go too ; if not, I stay ; but remember, 
Roy, with the first note of the bluebird the 
flower fairies will all be home, and I must get 









Prince Fay in Evidence Again 169 

out into the open and report to her most royal 
Highness, her Majesty the Queen.” 

Saying this, the trim little figure in green 
sprang up, and, with heels together, made the 
most elaborate bow and flourish, which bid fair 
to tumble him head first into the medicine 
glass, which happened to be half full of 
water at the time. So comical was the effort 
by which he saved himself, that Roy broke 
into peals of laughter; and the fact that Prince 
Fay sprang back to the pot, and climbed up 
the stem of the azalea in the most undignified 
fashion, only increased his irrepressible 
merriment. 

Hearing this unusual sound from the sick 
room, his mother hurried in, and was surprised 
to find her little boy rolling among the pillows 
in the most hilarious state without apparent 
cause. “ Oh, I was only laughing at a fairy 
friend of mine,” said Roy, in answer to her 
questions ; “I’m all right. Please push the 
table near enough for me to touch the flowers, 
and I shall amuse myself quite happily for the 
next hour.” Mother looked slightly anxious 


170 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


and very puzzled. “ I fear my darling is 
somewhat hysterical,” she said, as she was leav- 
ing the room, “ and I must not let him over- 
tire himself on nurse’s morning off, or she 
will think I have neglected our little patient.” 

When she was gone, Roy divided the flowers, 
and putting in his little, white hand, begged 
Prince Fay to appear again. “ That ’s a po- 
lite way to treat a friend,” said he, with an at- 
tempt to look indignant, “ to laugh at me in 
that manner, and then to call in your mother 
before I had time to make a dignified retreat.” 
“ I did n’t call her, and she says I ’m hysterical. 
That is all the excuse I can give. Now come 
and sit on my bed and talk to me, and I prom- 
ise not to laugh again.” 

Sitting on the palm of Roy’s hand, the fairy 
allowed himself to be conveyed to the top of 
the snowy mountain made by his knees beneath 
the bedquilt. Sitting there enthroned, he be- 
gan to talk of the coming spring. “You see, 
Roy,” he said, “ the first company of fairies to 
come are with the bluebirds. It is only rarely 
we travel with the robins, because there is 


Prince Fay in Evidence Again 171 

often frost and snow after their coming, and 
we would rather leave the field to the white 
armed knights until the sunshine is really 
warm. The next detachment comes with the 
orioles and thrushes, and the last with the hum- 
ming birds, purple martins, and scarlet tana- 
gers. The early season is a very busy one. 
First we have to attend to all the little shoots 
coming out of the brown earth. We straighten 
the crooked ones, rub off the earth with which 
they may be stained, and watch over them gen- 
erally. You see, these spring flowers are the 
birthplaces of all the tiny, new fairies. Every 
tulip that opens its gay cup to the sunshine is a 
fairy cradle, and a little life is hidden in each 
curled-up narcissus bud.” 

“Oh!” cried Roy delightedly, “I would 
love to see them open; could I?” “Well, I 
don’t know, little boy, I will ask the Queen. 
That is a question she alone can decide, and 
you would have to be out by sunrise on the 
great day. It may not be possible ; still we ’ll 
see, we ’ll see.” At this half promise, Roy 
was so delighted that he wiggled his toes, and 


172 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


that meant an upheaval of the white mountain; 
and forthwith Prince Fay came tumbling 
down in a swift and undignified manner. Far 
from resenting this unexpected experience, he 
so enjoyed it that he climbed up repeatedly 
and slipped down, waving his feathered cap 
and shouting in his tiny, silvery voice with as 
much merriment as a schoolboy. The fairy 
laughter was, however, drowned by Roy’s 
peals of merriment; and mother’s return 
caused Prince Fay to vanish amid the flowers ; 
while our little boy lay back on the pillow 
exhausted. 

“ My dearest child ! I am coming to read 
to you, and I hope you will drop off to sleep, 
for you are far too weak to be so wild in your 
play. She moved the table away, and as she 
did so remarked, “ I thought I saw a little 
mouse run across your bed as I came in, but 
it must have been a fancy.” She tucked him 
in snugly, and then seated herself by his side 
to read. By degrees his eyelids drooped, and 
his little head settled more deeply in the pillow; 
and ere long the rhythm of mother’s voice was 


Prince Fay in Evidence Again 1 73 


accompanied by the soft cadence of regular 
breathing. Roy was with the dream fairies 
again, and from the smile on his face, he must 
have been listening to the song of the skylark. 























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































CHAPTER XI 


THE SONG OF THE BLUEBIRD 

R OY had progressed so well that he was 
tucked up in mother’s long, rattan, 
lounging chair at the window. He had on a 
warm eider-down robe and slippers, and a 
big pile of pillows propped him to a height 
from which he could see the nearby flower- 
beds, and beneath the terrace and long strip 
of lawn. There was not much to see in the 
flower-beds, for they were still covered with 
brown leaves and brush- wood; but the lawn 
was of a beautiful, tender, spring green. 

“ It is really spring at last,” he exclaimed 
with a deep sigh of relief. On the table close 
at hand was his beloved white azalea and a field 
glass. He had been using the latter to watch 
the fat, grey j uncos who had settled in a 
flock on the lawn, and were industriously 


ZI 


177 


178 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


picking away for their dinner in the soft, damp 
turf. The sheen of the feathers on their backs 
caught the sunlight every now and then, and 
made them shine like satin; and the constant 
soft twitter of content, with which they ac- 
complished their work, sounded like bubbling 
water. Every now and then a robin’s note 
called from the trees, and here and there an 
early butterfly, tempted from its narrow bed 
by the sunshine, fluttered near the window 
like a helmless, breeze-blown piece of paper. 

Roy’s mother was tidying the room before 
going out; and, as the nurse had left some 
days before, Roy was to amuse himself, as he 
seemed well able to do these days. “ Really, 
my pet,” mother said, as she kissed him good- 
bye, “ if your illness has done nothing else for 
you, it has taught you to be contented. You 
never, when I leave you alone now, send me 
away with those words ‘ I don’t know what to 
play at ’ ringing in my ears. Yes,” she 
added with a smile, “ I know what you say has 
helped you. Weave all the fairy stories you 
like as long as you are happy. I don’t fear 


The Song of the Bluebird 179 


the influence of the little people that live with 
the flowers. Chat away to yourself, and if 
it gets cold,” she finished, “ ring the bell and 
have the window shut.” 

Just as she reached the top of the stairs, 
she heard him call to her. Roy had a trick of 
doing this. He always remembered what he 
wanted after his mother had left the room. 
She returned, however, very willingly, and he 
said: “ Mother, there is one thing I wish you 
would do. Tell John to fill the big pan I 
used last year for the robins, and put it down 
by the rose arbour, where I can watch them 
take their bath. It will be such fun.” Then 
mother was allowed to go without recall. 

A few minutes later, John was hobbling 
over the lawn with a big, deep dish of water, 
and from that moment Roy’s eyes were cen- 
tred upon it. For some time he knew he 
must amuse himself alone. Prince Fay had 
been telling him stories that morning; in fact 
he began quite early, long before mother, in 
the next room, was awake; and when Roy’s 
breakfast tray was heard jingling on the 


180 Twilight Fairy Tales 

stairs, he had withdrawn to the seclusion of his 
blossom-roofed bower to have his sleep out. 
There was important business, he announced, 
that he must talk over with the dream fairies, 
so Roy must not wake him on any account. 

Before the birds’ bath was put in place, Roy 
had curiously peeped between the flowers, and 
had seen the fairy fast asleep in a half -open 
bud, which seemed to tuck him in like a snowy 
white coverlet. Now Prince Fay could sleep 
on all he wanted to, for the robins and blue- 
jays seemed to be having a circus for Roy’s 
edification. He could not tell which family 
had discovered the bath first, but both parties 
were loudly insisting on their prior claims. 

One fat robin was sitting in the middle of 
the bath, splashing with vigor, while his mate 
stood by shouting at two jays who sat on the 
arbour just above, and they were screaming 
angrily and flashing their glorious, blue wings, 
in the sunshine. One presently dropped to the 
ground, and Roy expected to see him attack 
the bathers, for both robins were now making 
the water fly in crystal showers to right and 


The Song of the Bluebird 181 

left. The blue- jay had such a formidable beak 
and such a definite challenge in his voice, that 
one naturally would think that he, especially 
where there were two of him, could make 
robins’ feathers fly. 

To Roy’s surprise, his jay-ship hopped 
nearer and nearer, and then deliberately squat- 
ted on the turf under the shower of dewdrops 
and flapped his wings and tail with evi- 
dent satisfaction at getting at least a second- 
hand bath. Perhaps some lazy streak in his 
nature made him prefer a shower-bath to one 
in which he would have to use his own energies. 
Anyway, this happy arrangement seemed to 
please both parties. Blue- jay Number Two 
followed his companion, and humbly accepted 
the sprinkling cast his way. 

All at once, however, there was a flash of 
blue wings and brown, and the quartette had 
scattered, calling and scolding, in different 
directions. Was it Bluette, the big Angora 
cat, lurking in the shade of the fir trees? Or 
had some footstep sounded on the path? No, 
they had simply been turned out by new 


1&2 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


enemies, and they were only a trio of pugnaci- 
ous, little, English sparrows, who hopped in 
and out of the bath and chattered, fluttered 
and plumed themselves, certain beyond a 
doubt that the bath was placed there for them, 
and for them alone. 

Roy was very wroth. “ Miserable, conceited, 
little things,” he shouted, “ they have spoiled 
all the fun, and I never meant it for them at 
all.” There was nothing handy to throw at 
them, and he could hardly have reached the 
arbour if there had been a convenient missile; 
though to allow them to enjoy their stolen bath 
in peace was beyond endurance. Raising him- 
self to the window ledge, he looked below with 
the hope that John might be there; and then 
he noticed Tiny, his beloved little black-and- 
tan, spread out blissfully asleep on the stone 
walk, getting nicely baked in the sun. 

Ever since Roy was quarantined, Tiny had 
been kept away from him; and all the other 
members of the family had been hurriedly sent 
away. The loving, little dog had been greatly 
distressed, and the marks on Roy’s door still 







The Song of the Bluebird 183 


showed where she had scratched and begged 
to be let in to him. Now she would sit hours 
at a time under the window, with her absurd, 
little tail wagging her whole body with the 
pure delight of hearing his voice again. 

Here was an instrument ready to his hand. 
“Tiny! Tiny!” he called. The little, black 
body sprang to attention as if a current of 
electricity had passed through it, and the in- 
telligent, little face was all love and worship. 
“ Sic ’em, Tiny, sic ’em,” came the command. 
Of course she would. Why, she was ready to 
sic anything on earth if it would please her 
little master ; so she rushed off, wildly barking. 
She had not the slightest idea in her little, 
black head as to what she was to sic, but she 
charged down the lawn as affording the long- 
est run and the greatest scope for energy. 

There she beheld a flock of peaceful j uncos, 
and charged them wildly, for surely they were 
what Roy meant. Having chased the last, de- 
parting shadow with ear-splitting barks, she 
returned in triumph to be applauded. “ Lit- 
tle goose,” was all her master said, and she 


184 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


settled down panting and hoping for some 
kinder word of praise. 

The general confusion had stopped the 
sparrows’ bath, but now they were at it again, 
reinforced by two more of their numerous fam- 
ily. “ Sic ’em,” shouted Roy again, gesticu- 
lating violently in the right direction. Tiny, 
up again quivering and whining, scanned the 
garden for something; anything that could pos- 
sibly be chased. Unfortunately her eyes fell on 
Hannibal, the big, white rooster, who was ma- 
jestically and solemnly leading a bevy of hens 
into the grove beyond the croquet lawn, where 
he had discovered and uncovered, by the use 
of his spurs, a delightful scratching ground. 

This surely was the foe that Roy desired to 
put to flight. No doubt remained, so, with a 
yelp of triumph, Tiny shot away with an 
energy that sent her flying over the lawn like 
a streak of black lightning. Great was the 
havoc she caused. Hannibal fled squawking; 
while his wives scattered in every direction, fly- 
ing over the ground with wings flapping, legs 
trailing, and necks elongated. 


The Song of the Bluebird 185 


John, who had suddenly appeared from 
somewhere, followed, gesticulating with his 
broom, and calling Tiny a list of uncomplimen- 
tary names that the poor, little creature did not 
at all understand, though the tone of voice 
made her retire to the shadow of Roy’s win- 
dow, with her poor, little body cringing to the 
earth and her tail made as well-nigh invisible 
as possible. She looked pleadingly up, and 
spat out two of Hannibal’s white tail feathers 
with a look that said pathetically, “ Master, I 
did try to please you”; and Roy had to say, 
“ Poor doggy ” in answer to the plea, which 
kind greeting set her tail to wagging and 
brought back a look of ecstasy to her intel- 
ligent little face. 

Roy felt himself rather tired, for shouting 
commands to a wildly excited dog was not the 
wisest occupation for an invalid. Sinking 
back into his chair, he let the sense of the sweet- 
ness and warmth of the air steal over him, and 
spread out his thin, little, white hands to a 
warm, yellow sunbeam that fell across his lap. 
As he lay and watched some lazy, fleecy white, 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


1 86 

clouds creep slowly along across the sapphire 
blue sky, he heard a distant bird call, that 
thrilled him strangely, and made his drowsy 
eyes fly wide open. Was it, could it be, the 
voice of the bluebird? 

Some one else had heard it. However far 
away Prince Fay had travelled with the 
Dreamland fairies, that sound of all others was 
the one to bring him back. In a moment he 
had sprung from the shelter of the white blos- 
soms, and, with an elasticity that Roy did not 
know he possessed, landed with one bound on 
the window-sill. His little, green-clad figure 
was quivering with excitement. Drawn up 
to his full height, with his shoulders squared 
and his cavalier cloak thrown back, he looked 
every inch a prince, tiny as he was. 

“Roy! Roy!” he cried, his face alight, his 
voice vibrant with joy, “ they are coming; they 
are coming. I heard, and soon you shall hear 
and see my people, of whom I have talked so 
often, and for whom I have watched so long.” 
Roy leaned forward, eager to watch with his 
friend for the coming host; and then all at 


The Song of the Bluebird 187 


once the flash of light blue wings and rose- 
tinted breasts seemed everywhere. Bluebirds 
in the fir trees; bluebirds on the rose vines; 
bluebirds flitting from branch to branch in the 
great tulip trees; some silent as blue shadows; 
others winging away with the sun on their 
brilliant feathers, giving forth a clear, sweet 
call; and then close beside him another call 
rang out. It was Prince Fay’s silver hunting 
horn, clear and sweet, but so insistent that it 
seemed to dominate all other sounds. 

A passing bluebird swerved in its course, as 
if checked and redirected by some unseen hand, 
and in a moment it was perched on the window- 
sill. Then Roy saw that another little fig- 
ure had sprung from between the outspread 
wings. He was about the Prince’s size, but 
dressed in pale blue velvet, almost the colour 
of the bird he rode. The shoulder cape was 
lined with palest rose colour, and a cluster of 
pink pearls held in place the blue feather in 
his cap. 

“ My dear Fay,” he cried, “ what a joyful 
surprise! Where have you been hiding your- 


i88 


Twilight Fairy Tales 

self? Your cheery voice and the sound of 
your silver horn have been sadly missed by 
your comrades at court and in the field.” His 
friend’s answer Roy could not catch; but as 
he stood watching the two gorgeous, little fig- 
ures, standing with clasped hands in eager 
converse, he noticed the bird, that still stood 
motionless, regarding him with terror in its 
bright, black eyes, and he could note the beat- 
ing of its frightened heart beneath the rose- 
flushed feathers on its breast. The fairy visi- 
tor must have noticed it too, for he touched the 
bird with a reassuring hand and looked across 
at Roy with a smile, as Prince Fay waved his 
hand in adieu. “ Good-bye, dear little friend,” 
he cried; “ I must away to the forest, where 
the fairies meet to-night, but I shall come 
again, never fear; and if you remember the 
road to Fairy-land and watch well the birds, 
butterflies, and flowers, you are bound to see 
us often through spring days and summer 
nights. Farewell, farewell.” 

A flash of blue wings, and the two, little fig- 
ures were gone. The flight of bluebirds that 


The Song of the Bluebird 189 


had rested in the trees of Roy’s garden had 
flitted off to the silent shade of the forest, and 
a sense of loneliness crept into the little boy’s 
heart. Laying his head on the window-sill, 
he sobbed aloud; and faithful Tiny, hearing 
him, howled in distress unison from the gar- 
den below. 

“ Up too long and tired out, my poor, little 
boy,” said mother, entering the room a few 
minutes later. “See who has come to com- 
fort you.” And Roy felt a cold, little nose 
and a warm little tongue against his hand. The 
next moment the loving, little dog was hugged 
close in his arms, and he was whispering in her 
fawn-like ears: “You won’t go away and 
leave me, will you, Tiny? You are the kind 
of friend to have. I ’ll never, never let them 
take you away from me again.” 










CHAPTER XII 

THE MARSH KING’S CONCEBT 

T HAT night, as Roy lay awake in the 
moonlit room, he heard the frogs peep 
for the first time, and he knew that spring had 
really come at last. What a joyous, soothing, 
musical note it is — that rolling, throbbing, 
pleading call of the night! Tiny lay sleeping 
in Roy’s arms. Mother had not had the heart 
to separate them that first night of their re- 
union, and determined that she would dig the 
dog out of her little nest after Roy was fast 
asleep. 

Tiny was so perfectly happy that she slept 
soundly, and when that was the case, she had 
a not altogether musical way of breathing. 
This interrupted Roy’s enjoyment of the frog 
symphony, so he shook her gently once or 




193 


i 9 4 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


twice, but at each shaking she cuddled down a 
little closer and tucked her nose more snugly 
under his arm. What can’t be cured must 
be endured; so he let her snore bass to the 
frogs’ high treble; and in time the regular al- 
ternation of sounds made him drowsy, and fix- 
ing his eyes on a long, pale streak of moon- 
light, he became conscious of a delicious feel- 
ing of rest and peace stealing through every 
fibre of his body. 

Were his eyes deceiving him, or was that the 
Queen of his Dreamland visit gliding down 
the path of silver light? Her gown was of the 
softest, filmy white, and might have been 
the work of spider weavers. One great, white 
jewel shone like a star in her raven hair, and a 
girdle of moonstones gleamed softly around 
her waist. She had really come to him. 
Prince Fay might prove faithless and fly away 
at the first chance to rejoin his comrades of the 
greenwood; but this dear fairy of dreams 
would never desert him, he could see that in 
her smiling eyes as she came towards him with 
outstretched hands. 


The Marsh King’s Concert 195 


“ Poor little Roy! These days are long and 
tedious, are they not? ” she said sympatheti- 
cally, “ but it is lovely, balmy night, and I 
have come to help you make the most of it. 
Make haste and dress, and we will be off to- 
gether into the outside, moonlit world.” 
“ Mother would not like it, I ’m afraid,” said 
Roy, hesitating. “ Oh, yes, she would, because 
we will leave the tired, little body safe in bed 
with Tiny, and take only the little, dream boy 
away.” 

Roy did not understand the remark, but he 
felt great confidence in the queenly little fig- 
ure before him; and knew also that she was a 
close friend of his mother’s, for had he not 
slept himself in one of those pearly white 
cradles in her palace before his mother took 
him away? The moment he put his feet to the 
floor, he found he was fully dressed; and as 
soon as he touched the streak of moonlight, he 
saw that he had shrunk to fairy size, and he 
had to look up to catch the smile from the 
fairy face of the beautiful, stately figure at 
his side. 


19 6 Twilight Fairy Tales 

“ Come, ,, she said, and she took his hand, 
and together they began to descend a long 
flight of silvery steps. “ I did not see these 
at first,” said Roy, “ I thought it was just a 
moonbeam.” “Yes,” said the Queen, smil- 
ing, “ your sight was not quite adjusted then 
to Dreamland perspective. It is wonderful 
how different things look to what they are 
when one comes to see clearly. Would you 
like to know where we are going? ” “ Yes,” 

said Roy, but added contentedly and gallantly, 
“ I really don’t care at all as long as you are 
with me,” “ Why, little Roy, you would make 
quite a courtier, but all the same I will tell 
you. You heard the frogs singing. Well, it 
is their first concert of the year, and my little 
people are going to a ball out in the Marsh 
King’s palace, and they expect to have quite 
a gay time of it.” 

“ I can’t dance,” said Roy, rather defiantly. 
“ Mother does n’t care for me to learn, and 
says that I can get through life without it.” 
“ Yes, I know, Roy, and quite right she is, 
but you see you are not a fairy. Fairies have 






The Marsh King’s Concert 19 7 

to dance like butterflies or sunbeams., or the 
sparkles on the water. To them it is not some- 
thing artificially taught them; it is nature. 
But come; here are our steeds, and we must 
fly far and fast to be there on time.” 

As she spoke, she had thrown open a mas- 
sive, silver gate that stood at the foot of the 
steps, and Roy looked out on a beautiful, 
moonlit country. No horses were in evidence, 
but he heard a soft flap of wings, and in a 
moment saw two, velvety, white moths alight 
in front of them. After riding the golden 
stork, and seeing Prince Fay’s friend alight 
from the back of a bluebird, this seemed no 
very extraordinary thing to our little wan- 
derer in Fairy-land. So Roy w r as mounted, 
almost as quickly as the Queen, and they 
floated away into the moonlight. 

The air was soft and balmy, and full of that 
sweet fragrance of moss and fern and growing 
things that only exhales from the forest at 
night. Sometimes they passed through dark, 
shadowy pines, mysterious and solemn in their 
might and majesty. Sometimes they looked 


ig& Twilight Fairy Tales 

down on silvery, winding rivers and peaceful, 
sleeping lakes; but everywhere a sweet, soft 
music seemed to sigh and swell around them. 

All at once they saw, at the end of an avenue 
of trees, an illumination so bright that it made 
the moonlight pale and ghostly. A nearer 
view showed it to be a palace, or rather a pa- 
vilion, for it was all roof and colonnades, with 
no obscuring walls to shut in the light. An- 
other moment, and Roy was mounting its steps 
with the Queen’s hand resting lightly on his 
shoulder. The steps seemed to be of some 
rare, green marble, and the wondrous columns 
and pillars were of the same, but around them 
a golden design of fleur-de-lis was most grace- 
fully entwined. The balconies and inside 
staircase were all of gold, and the effect was 
gorgeous beneath the thousands of tiny elec- 
tric lights. 

The floor of the pavilion was of a clear, white 
crystal, but the whole centre of the hall was de- 
pressed to form a big pool, into which a merry, 
little stream was flowing, crossed at the back, 
Where it entered, by several, little, golden 


The Marsh King’s Concert 199 

bridges. Over the margin of the pool drooped 
ferns, and in the centre moss-covered rocks 
had been arranged so as to form an orchestra, 
and there were seated the players and singers. 

Amid all this beauty, they were just com- 
mon every-day frogs. That could not be 
said, however, of the Marsh King, for he was 
most majestic in size, and his golden eyes were 
like jewels He was distinguished from his 
court, moreover, by his crown, which was of 
fine gold filigree, with some magnificent emer- 
alds gleaming in the delicate setting. His 
efforts to rise and bow gracefully to the Dream 
Queen were very funny, but she acknowledged 
them with a graceful wave of her hand, and 
cried merrily : “ Don’t let my presence disturb 
you in the least, your Majesty. I can stay 
but a short while, and I will watch my little 
people enjoy themselves, while we listen to 
your superb band.” 

As she turned away, some signal must have 
been given, for in a moment the air vibrated 
with sound — rising, swelling, throbbing, shrill- 
ing, and then blending in the most wonderful 


200 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


harmony. Roy was overwhelmed. Seating 
himself on the leaf of a water-lily that grew at 
the border of the great, clear pool, he listened 
and watched, and he found there was soon 
much to see. Out of the shadowy night world 
into the zone of brilliant light, trooped, sailed, 
or glided the dream fairies. They were all of 
them airy and graceful. Their clothing was 
light and filmy as gossamer, and for colours 
they might have been robbing the rainbow. 

When seen out in the night they all looked 
white in the moonlight, but as soon as they 
entered the hall, the beauty and variety of 
colour were seen. For jewels they all seemed 
to prefer the diamond, opal, or moonstone; in 
fact, Roy could see no others worn, and con- 
cluded that it was in honour of the dewy hour 
or locality of their gathering place. Their 
laughter was low and musical, of the same tone 
as all fairy laughter he had heard; and when 
they chattered gayly, it was not like human 
chatter — a wearying, deafening sound — but 
soothing like the peal of far-away bells. 

Then they danced, and that was dancing 


The Marsh King’s Concert 201 

indeed. The Queen had said it was nature, 
and Roy agreed with her. He had sometimes 
watched the motes in a sunbeam dancing, when 
a ray of golden light forced its way through a 
half -closed shutter; and he had often looked 
out on the summer sea when it was covered with 
what a poet once called “ the merry, twinkling 
smile of ocean.” Well, that was how these 
dream fairies danced over the crystal floor, 
away into the sweet-scented shadows and back 
again. They were kindly, little people too, and 
they did not make Roy feel like a stranger, 
for one and all smiled at him as they passed. 

He had no notion of the time; he was too 
absorbed and occupied. He was surprised 
when he became aware of the fact that his 
beautiful Dream Queen was smiling down 
upon him. He had almost forgotten her in 
the absorption of the scene before him. 
“ Good-bye, Roy,” she said, “ I must go. My 
little people have much work to do yet. It 
cannot be all play for them any night, and half 
of them have gone already to drive the night- 
mares home and lock them up.” 


202 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


As she was gliding away, Roy turned to 
follow, but he could not rise, and so he called 
out desperately, “ Do stop ! How on earth am 
I to get home without you? ” “ Oh, that will 
be all right,” she answered with a smile, “ only 
do not be frightened. I will not let any of the 
nightmares catch you.” Then she passed into 
the moonlight and disappeared. 

The music had grown very soft and low. 
The fairies were dancing slower and slower; 
and Roy noticed that as they glided into the 
shadows, they did not return. Soon they were 
all gone; not a foot-fall rang on the crystal 
floor; he was alone. No, the frogs must be 
there, though the music had grown very faint. 
Turning, he saw that the musicians were most 
of them sleeping, and that the old Marsh King 
himself was so fast asleep that his crown had 
tilted over one eye and he looked most dissi- 
pated and rakish. 

Then the lights began to fade out, and a 
little frog close to Roy climbed up on his lily 
pad, and nestled up close beside him for com- 
pany. In the hall it grew darker and darker, 


The Marsh King’s Concert 203 


but out beyond, the light of dawn was break- 
ing. How close that little frog was cuddling! 
Why, his cold nose was touching Roy’s face, 
and the sun’s light was growing brighter and 
brighter. It looked now as if it were coming 
through a window. Surely that was a window, 
and what was the sound close beside him? 
Frogs can’t whine. 

Roy was rubbing his eyes now, and with the 
dream films cleared away, he saw his own 
little room, his white bed, and the frog — where 
was he? Why, he had vanished, and Tiny was 
pleading for a kiss of recognition. 






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































205 








CHAPTER XIII 

NEW PRINCES ARE INTRODUCED 

I T was a bright, sweet, balmy morning. Roy 
felt so much better that he longed to get up 
and dress ; but he knew that mother would not 
approve of that, as she wished him to progress 
slowly, so that his recovery might be steady, 
and no relapse might endanger the little life 
so precious to her. He did not think, how- 
ever, that she would mind his taking just one 
peep into the sun-kissed, dewy garden, where 
Spring’s green footsteps became more dis- 
tinct each day. 

Tiptoeing into mother’s room, he took his 
field-glass from the rattan lounge, and put- 
ting on slippers and eider-down robe, he 
opened the window softly for a breath of fresh 
air. It really seemed as if the change from 


207 


208 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


barrenness to vendure had come in a night. 
What wondrous powers had been at work? 
The lovely, pale greens, reds, and pinks fairly 
clothed the trees, so long brown and naked. A 
dewy mist hung low over the grass. Long 
rays of golden light shot up from behind the 
distant city, that stood out like a line of grey 
and purple fortresses on the far-off horizon; 
and the great, fiery rim of the sun himself 
glowed behind the spruce tree, with an ardour 
that made Roy see green disks wherever he 
looked, after gazing upon the rising glory. 

Softly and cheerily bird notes trilled up to 
him from the trees and shrubs; while on the 
lawn crowds of robins hopped with their pecul- 
iar, little hurrying step, which brings them up 
short every few minutes, like a mechanical toy 
gone wrong. “ I wonder,” said Roy to him- 
self, “ if the touch of fairy fingers brought 
those buds out so swiftly.” Then, as no an- 
swer came to his thoughts, he focussed his 
field-glass, that he might watch the robins 
breakf ast-hunting. 

There was one big fellow, with his head on 


New Princes are Introduced 209 


one side, listening intently. Could it be that 
his ear was so finely attuned to sound as to 
catch the movement of the long, lithe body 
gliding along some hidden passage beneath the 
turf? Listening changed in a moment to ac- 
tion; an instantaneous peck, and now the big 
fellow was braced for a tug of war, and the 
worm that he held was firmly resistent, cling- 
ing to its earthy retreat with might and main. 
Tug, tug, hop, hop, shake, shake ! What 
energy that robin had! and yet the worm held 
out. Force failing, the robin next tried 
strategy; and pretending to loosen his hold, 
in a moment the unsuspecting earth-worm 
yielded, so that he might gather himself to- 
gether for the final effort and disappear be- 
low; but, before he knew what had happened, 
he was sent flying skyward, and fell to the 
grass only to be cut by a sharp beak, and de- 
voured in two gulps by his clever antagonist. 

A flutter of wings at the window caused Roy 
to lower his glass and look nearer at hand. 
A blue- jay, with wings outstretched, sailed by 
like a flash, uttering the discordant cry that 


14 


210 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


is the note of warning to the forest folk. Roy 
expected to see him fly to the birds’ bath close 
to the rustic seat near the fir tree, which was 
a favorite rendezvous of all his feathered 
friends; but the bird made a swift circle and 
fluttered back to the window-sill, as though 
turned and guided by an unseen hand. 

Roy’s heart beat fast, and a joyous cry al- 
most startled the blue- jay into flight again, 
as he saw a tiny, blue-clad figure slip from the 
smooth back of the bird to stand bowing with 
courtly grace close to his own outstretched 
hand. Yes, there could be no doubt of it; he 
was looking into Fairy-land again. His first 
thought was to pinch himself and wink his 
eyes very fast, to see if he was really awake; 
and a silvery laugh told that his thoughts had 
been read by his new, fairy friend. 

For a moment Roy was abashed and morti- 
fied. It was all very well for Prince Fay to 
laugh at him; they were long-time friends, and 
he too could laugh at the little fairy’s expense ; 
but here was a stranger, who had not even 
been introduced, making fun of him at the 


New Princes are Introduced 


21 I 


onset of their acquaintance. An unwonted 
cloud settled on Roy’s face, and he fixed his 
eyes intently on the distant treetops, with the 
intention of utterly ignoring the little blue 
figure. A flap of wings, a sharp discordant 
cry, and the blue- jay was away among the fir 
trees, evidently glad to put distance between 
them. 

Quick remorse followed Roy’s momentary 
irritation. What a pity he had been so un- 
gracious! The fairy had gone, and now once 
more the golden gates into that wonderful 
world were closed before him. His eager eyes 
were straining to penetrate the shades of the 
fir trees, with the hope that the little, blue fig- 
ure might guide back his unwilling, feathered 
steed; and it never occurred to him to look 
down at the window-sill, where the bird had 
alighted a moment before. 

Had he done so, he would have seen a bril- 
liant, little figure sitting cross-legged close to 
his listless hand, and turning a merry face 
and very bright eyes up to his own disap- 
pointed and far-away gaze. The little creat- 


212 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


ure was clad in darkest blue velvet. His 
girdle and sword hilt were resplendent with 
sapphires; his fair curls crowned with a dark 
cavalier hat, the white plumes of which gave 
the only light touch to a richly, sombre dress. 

Springing to his feet, he put one spurred 
foot on Roy’s little finger, preparatory to 
climbing the back of his doubled-up hand. The 
touch brought Roy quickly back from the dis- 
tance, and with a sigh of delighted relief, he 
exclaimed: “ So you are there still. I thought 
you had flown aw r ay.” “ My dear little boy, 
I can’t fly,” was the answer. “ You are rather 
mixed up in your expressions, I fear. When 
you travel on a train, do you speak of your- 
self as steaming? My bird does the flying, 
and I have sent him away because my business 
was with you; and the foolish jay was panic- 
stricken at your size. Besides that, you know 
the jay is a very inquisitive and a very talka- 
tive bird ; and he might spread the news which 
is intended only for your own ears.” 

“ Well, I ’m glad you stayed, anyhow,” said 
Roy, with unmistakable cordiality, “ and now 







New Princes are Introduced. 213 


please tell me who you are, and what message 
you bring to me.” Very deliberately the fairy 
climbed finger after finger until he stood on 
the top of Roy’s closed fist ; and then he swung 
his hat from his head with a most courtly bow, 
and said, “Prince Featherweight, at your ser- 
vice, chief friend and messenger of Prince 
F ay, who is now a special equerry to her most 
Royal Highness, the Queen.” “ Hurrah! ” 
cried Roy, and waved his free hand triumph- 
antly, “I’m so glad he has not forgotten me. 
I have missed him so much, and I was almost 
afraid that I had said 4 Good-bye ’ to him for- 
ever. But what is the message, and why could 
he not come himself?” 

“ To answer your last question first, the 
reason should be plain enough. The chief 
equerry of our fairy Queen cannot go running 
away to visit little boys; and to satisfy your 
curiosity will be simple, for this is all Prince 
Fay said to me : — ‘ Go to my dear little Roy, 
and tell him that the fairies are busily at work, 
and now is the time to watch for them. Take 
him to see the gathering of Prince Russet’s 


214 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


regiment this morning; and before you leave 
him, promise in my name that he shall see the 
baby fairies in their flower cradles, and shall 
be bidden to the wedding of his friends the 
Princess Firelight and the White Prince.’ ” 

Roy was too happy to answer this proclama- 
tion delivered in most ornate style, with every 
courtly flourish that the graceful, little figure 
could execute. “ When may I go with you? ” 
he gasped at last. “ Now, if you will. I can 
take you on my own steed, if you are willing 
to become fairylike; or you can run down 
stairs and unlock the front door, and I ’ll meet 
you out on the lawn.” Roy was about to ac- 
cept the last offer, when he thought of mother. 
The grass was dewy; the morning air fresh. 
What would she say to her little invalid slip- 
ping out without leave, and especially in at- 
tire consisting of slippers and dressing gown 
only? 

For a moment he hesitated. Oh! surely a 
fairy trip could hurt no one, and yet his little 
heart said loudly: “ Think of mother. What 
would she wish? ” It was a sad and somewhat 


New Princes are Introduced 215 


choking, little voice that answered: “ O, Prince 
Featherweight, I am so, so sorry, but I can’t 
come. I ’ve been very sick, you know, and 
mother would not like it. Though she has not 
said I must n’t go, I know she would say it 
if I asked, so I ’ll have to give it up.” “ That 
is a pity,” answered the fairy, “ I wonder Fay 
did not think of that. I guess I ’ll have to 
ride away and get the aid of another friend of 
ours, who alone can get us over this difficulty.” 

The clear call of a silvery, hunting horn fol- 
lowed these words. There was again a flash 
of grey and blue, and once more the jay had 
vanished amid the dark green of the fir trees, 
but this time he bore on his outstretched wings 
the graceful, commanding, little figure of his 
princely master. 

Poor Roy ! As he saw the gate of Fairy-land 
shut before him, he threw aside wrapper and 
slippers and crept back into bed. Pulling up 
the sheets and blankets, he covered his head, 
that the bitter sobs of disappointment might 
not be heard, but there was some one who did 
hear. Tiny crept out of the basket beneath 


216 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


'Roy’s bed, and sprang lightly onto the snowy 
coverlet. She scratched at the top where the 
opening of admittance ought to be. 

Roy’s tight grasp on the bedclothes relaxed, 
and Tiny found space to poke in an inquiring 
nose. The opening grew more encouraging, 
and Tiny’s little tan-coloured paws enlarged 
it enough for the loving dog eyes to see a tear- 
stained little face. That was enough. With 
a look of humblest repentance for all the sins 
she might have committed, Tiny began to kiss 
the wet cheeks of her beloved master; taking, 
as she always seemed to take, all the blame for 
Roy’s unhappiness. 

In a moment the coverings were thrown 
back, and the little, black dog was pulled in to 
nestle in the child’s encircling arms ; and by and 
by so still were they both that you might have 
fancied, by the light and regular rise and fall 
of the coverlet, that they were sound asleep. 
Had you suggested this to Roy, however, he 
would have indignantly denied the impeach- 
ment. With his chin resting on one of Tiny’s 
soft, silky ears, he lay thinking of the beauty 


New Princes are Introduced 217 


of the garden and of the free, happy birds, 
whose morning songs he could still hear; and 
above all, of the busy fairies whose company 
he had been bidden to join, and from whom 
he had had to turn away. 

Perhaps his thoughts were growing a little 
hazy, for as he peeped from over the coverlet, 
he thought he saw the golden stork on the 
screen wink at him. He looked again, and 
that extraordinary bird was yawning and 
stretching his wings, and the next moment he 
had hopped down and was striding across the 
floor in a path made by a long pencil of golden 
sunlight. “Well, well, well! ” he exclaimed, 
“ great thing, that wireless telegraphy. I was 
sound asleep after a heavy night’s work, when 
‘ click, click, click,’ it woke me up, and the 
Dream Queen’s chief lord in waiting was send- 
ing a special call for me to hurry up and take 
you out to see the garden fairies at work.” 

It did not take Roy a moment to tumble out 
of bed, and when he touched the floor, he 
realised that he was of fairy proportions once 
more, for he could not touch the stork’s back 


218 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


even by standing on tiptoe and stretching up 
ever so far. In camel fashion, the big bird 
stooped to let him mount, and then it was that 
Roy noticed that Tiny, also of fairy size, 
was at his feet, wagging a very wee stump of 
a tail and begging with eager eyes to go too. 
Taking the doggy up quickly, he placed her 
in front of him on the flat, golden back of the 
bird, who the next moment was striding 
swiftly down the golden path to the window. 
With an upward spring it had reached the sill, 
and then was out in the soft, spring air, sail- 
ing lightly as a feather down, down, down, to 
the green lawn that spread out like a great, 
velvet carpet below them. 

When their golden steed landed, Roy and 
Tiny slipped to the ground, and found Prince 
Featherweight at their side. “ Go home,” he 
ordered, as the big bird scraped and bowed 
in a somewhat stiff and stalky fashion, “ I can 
see you are nearly asleep now. It is unusual 
for the dream fairies to use him, except during 
the dark hours,” he added to Roy, “ and I be- 
lieve he had a busy time of it last night, carry- 


New Princes are Introduced 219 


ing down some much- wanted dream babies ; so 
we will send him home, and then no one will 
chance to see the empty place on the Japanese 
screen.” 

Roy watched the flight of the swift, regu- 
larly beating wings, gleaming like burnished 
gold in the sunlight; and he sighed with the 
sheer pleasure of the beauty of the hour and 
scene. Was there ever such a perfect, spring 
morning? “Come! Come!” cried his new 
friend, “ if you are to see anything, we must 
hurry up, for it is getting late; and the Prince, 
who is in charge to-day, will be off to the forest 
in half an hour, and he is especially noted for 
his punctuality.” 

The lawn now seemed to Roy of such im- 
mense proportions that he was not surprised 
that Prince Featherweight preferred to ride 
than to journey on foot. A shrill note on his 
bugle brought a swift sweep of blue wings, 
and another summoned the bird’s mate, so that 
in less time than it takes to tell it, Roy was 
again mounted; and with Tiny before him, as 
eager and excited as himself, followed the 


220 Twilight Fairy Tales 

Prince’s lead over long stretches of green 
plain, toward what looked like brown hillocks 
in the distance. 

When their destination was reached, how- 
ever, he found that these must be mother’s 
flower-beds, in which she had planted with so 
much care hundreds of little brown bulbs. 
Papa always laughed at her for her enthusiasm 
over bulbs. When he came upon her reading 
Henderson’s fall catalogues, he would say, 
“ O dear! Mother has got the bulb craze 
again,” and he would groan whenever the 
question was mentioned and pretend he must 
hide his check book, and make all sorts of 
naughty, teasing remarks. 

After the planting of the bulbs came the 
gathering of piles of dried leaves to cover 
them; and then, over all, branches of brush- 
wood to keep the leaves from blowing away. 
On the very top of one of these beds the blue- 
jays left their riders, and Roy, somewhat out 
of breath and full of wonder, gazed down the 
hill slope below him, and saw on every side an 
army of busy workers. They were fairies, 


New Princes are Introduced 221 


sure enough, but not the fairies of velvet 
cloaks, jewelled swords, and diamond-buckled 
shoes. 

Every tiny figure was clad in russet brown 
from the little round cap to the neat, brown 
shoes. So like the leaves did they appear, 
that had they stood perfectly still, their pres- 
ence would not have been detected. The 
sound of their merry laughter as they worked, 
seemed as much a part of the sweet, spring air 
as the sound of the birds; and the smile on 
their happy faces, their bright eyes, and soft, 
golden brown hair, seemed akin to the early 
sunshine. 

Roy and Tiny were so absorbed watching 
these tiny workers, that they did not see the 
princely figure that had approached Prince 
Featherweight; and it was not until his arm 
was taken and a friendly shake administered, 
that Roy turned to hear his friend saying, 
“ Let me introduce you to Prince Russet, who 
is another special friend of our mutual friend, 
Fay; and a very good fellow I can assure you, 
though he has such a reputation for hard 
work.” 


222 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


The Prince thus introduced laughed gayly. 
“ My dear Featherweight,” he said, “ work, 
when one’s whole heart is in the undertaking 
and w T hen the work is rightly done, is full of 
enjoyment; and I tell you we have plenty of 
frolic and fun where other people seem to 
think there could be but toil.” 

Roy, who had clasped the outstretched hand 
cordially, looked up with admiration at the 
lithe, gallant figure that rose majestically 
above him. He knew that this princeling was 
only about the height of Prince Fay, and that 
when he was out of Fairy-land, he could com- 
fortably seat both fairies on the palm of his 
hand, and have room for half a dozen more of 
the same size; but now he was small enough 
to see him as his followers did. 

The Prince’s dress, though of the same 
brown tints and shades as those his followers 
wore, was of velvet, and a soft, brown plume 
waved in his cap. The jewel that held it was 
an opal, translucent as a dewdrop and showing 
all the soft hues of a fading rainbow. An- 
other gem of the same beauty clasped his gir- 


New Princes are Introduced 223 


die, and yet another buckled the cloak that 
fell gracefully back from his shoulders. Roy, 
who had a keenly artistic eye, was charmed 
with the taste and harmony of colouring. 

“ Come,” said the Prince, “ if you would 
understand our labours of this morning, I 
must show you my people working, and ex- 
plain what they have accomplished.” From 
group to group of busy workers, Roy fol- 
lowed his friends. He saw that with sword 
and spear they were cutting the dead leaves, 
and here and there hacking with might and 
main at some branch of brush-wood, that 
seemed to be somehow in the way. 

“ But what is it all for? Why must they 
split the leaves and cut the branches? ” — “ Be- 
cause, my dear little boy, something wants to 
come through to the sunlight; and if you will 
peep into each hole or opening they have made, 
you will see a green head peeping out, ever so 
glad that it can now grow up straight, instead 
of bending over crooked, or staying down 
there doubled up altogether.” 

Down into the caverns on the hillside Roy 


224 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


peered eagerly, and in every one a green head 
or spear pointed upward toward the light. 
Some of them that had been bent and crooked 
were stretching themselves as a tall man 
would, who has been stooping in a vault where 
he was unable to stand upright. 

“ Why! ” he exclaimed with a gasp, after a 
long pause for thought, “ they must be moth- 
er’s bulbs.” “ Yes,” said the Prince, with a 
laugh, “ this is the yellow tulip bed, but your 
mother did not know how well advanced the 
spring was, and she has not uncovered 
them quite early enough. Now, when she 
sees the green heads showing through the 
slits and holes we have made, she will come 
to their rescue and have all the old leaves and 
branches removed.” 

“ That ’s very kind of you, I am sure, said 
Roy, “I will tell her; I’m sure she will be 
very much obliged.” “ My dear little boy,” 
said the Prince, “ if you do, I will tell you 
just what she will say: — ‘Why, my darling, 
you ’ve been dreaming ! ’ ” Seeing that Roy 
looked a little crestfallen, he added, “ But I 


New Princes are Introduced 225 

will tell you one of the reasons we take so 
much trouble with the tulips. They are fairy 
cradles, and in each one a dear, little baby 
sleeps. By and by the great day will come 
when they will be opened, and we shall carry 
away the new babies to our Queen.” 

“ Oh! ” exclaimed Roy, “ will you not let me 
know? I must be there,” — “ We will ask 
Prince Fay about it, and as he has already 
taken your petition to the Queen, you will 
probably receive an answer telling you the 
exact day, and then you will be allowed to see 
what no little mortal has ever seen before.” 

So saying, both Princes turned and looked 
up at the house, which loomed above them like a 
tremendous, rocky mountain. A thin column 
of smoke circled lazily into the air, and soon a 
shutter was thrown back with a bang. Tiny 
gave a little bark of recognition, as down to- 
wards them floated the golden stork. His eyes 
were shut, his wings flapping lazily; and as 
Roy climbed on his back, he heard him mutter- 
ing in a sleepy tone, “ Bother that wireless 
telegraphy; I hear it even in my dreams.” 


226 Twilight Fairy Tales 

Up, up, through the clear air; in over the 
window-sill; across the room, and then — oh! 
wretched old stork ! how could he drop 
Roy with such an unceremonious flop into the 
tumbled pile of pillows, sheets, and blankets? 
There he and Tiny sat, rubbing their eyes and 
grumbling, when mother came in with a tray 
in her hands. “ Wake up, my pet,” she said, 
“ I Ve brought you such a nice breakfast; and 
what do you think ! spring is really here. I Ve 
been out in the garden, and my bulbs are all 
showing their little, green heads ; and I ’ll have 
to clear all the old leaves away to-day.” 

“ Why, mother, that was just the news I 
had to tell you. The fairies were helping 
them through this morning early; I saw them 
at work.” — “ Why, my darling, you Ve been 
dreaming. I begin to think it ’s always fairy- 
land in your dreams.” — Roy sighed, “Ah! 
mother,” he said, “ that ’s what the Prince said 
you would say. It ’s no use trying to make 
grown-ups, even mothers, understand; they 
can’t. They ’ve lost their second sight that 
sees into fairy-land. That ’s what Prince Fay 


New Princes are Introduced 227 


told me once.’’ — “ Well, darling, I suppose 
Prince Fay is right, and it may be because we 
have too many other nearer, dearer, and more 
important things, such as little boys for in- 
stance, to look at and care for,” 












229 






CHAPTER XIV 


THE FLOWER BABIES 

T HE days passed quickly and happily 
for Roy when he really began to re- 
gain his strength. At first he lay on a long, 
lounging chair on the piazza, and it was a 
source of constant delight to watch the birds 
and insects that came each day in greater num- 
bers, as the sunshine warmed and beautified all 
nature. Then he was well enough to walk 
about the garden a little, and sometimes he 
lay at full length on the grass, looking up at 
the green boughs overhead, and watching the 
flash of many-coloured wings, or the flying 
leaps of bright-eyed, alert, little squirrels. 

Tiny was ever at his side, especially when 
squirrels were to be watched, and every nerve 
and muscle of the little, black body would 
thrill and quiver in harmony with the 


231 


232 Twilight Fairy Tales 

movements of the furry things she so ardently 
longed to catch. 

Sweet spring breezes, golden sunshine, and 
the fragrance of budding nature brought back 
the colour of health to Roy’s wan cheeks, the 
laughter and sparkle to his eyes, and the joy- 
ous effervescent spirits that made him sing 
and whistle as naturally as the birds. Then 
he loved those quiet, spring evenings. He had 
to go quite early to bed, but mother would sit 
beside him, and they would watch the stars 
come out and listen to the peeping of the 
frogs; and then she would light a shaded lamp 
and read him to sleep. Was there anything 
more soothing than the sound of mother’s 
voice, with the distant frog songs as an 
orchestral accompaniment, and the drowsy 
feeling of healthy, contented sleep, making 
things vague and dreamy? 

Yes, those were happy days, and through 
them all ran a note of expectancy. Any hour 
the message might come calling him for 
another glance into fairy-land; and he knew 
that his eyes were all ready to see his little 


The Flower Babies 


233 


friends, because he had been patient and will- 
ingly obedient to mother’s every word; and 
though book lessons had not begun again, he 
was learning well those lessons that could 
make him “ mother’s little comfort.” 

Early waking was the rule with Roy, and 
of course with Tiny too ; and never a morning 
came to smile its sunny greeting to him but 
what his bright eyes sought the golden stork, 
to see if that solemn bird were preparing to 
stretch his wings and hop out of the Japanese 
screen. But his looking was never rewarded, 
for his stork-ship semed to be absolutely ob- 
livious to his existence, and never even deigned 
to wink at him in return. 

One evening Roy had received his orders for 
bed. Mother was out, and papa had romped 
with him a little over the allotted time; so he 
was more or less in a hurry as he ran out on to 
the piazza to call Tiny. Peering out into the 
deepening dusk, he saw his doggy sitting up 
under the big chestnut tree, all absorbed at- 
tention. Above her, far out of reach, was a 
squirrel. Every time the little creature 


234 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


chattered or scolded, Tiny trembled and 
whined with excitement; and she obeyed Roy’s 
call to bed most reluctantly after it had been 
repeated many times. 

A dejected, down-spirited, slinking, little 
doggy she appeared, when she came crawling 
to her little master’s feet at last. “ Tiny! 
Tiny! ” he said, “ I ’m surprised at you. Don’t 
you know that mother says to be any good, 
obedience should be prompt, glad, and com- 
plete.” Whatever Tiny’s obedience lacked, 
her humble sorrow was very evident under 
reproof. She lay down and licked her little 
master’s shoes; then rolled over and covered 
her eyes with her paws, a trick she had of act- 
ing ashamed. 

When thus entreated, Roy gladly forgave 
her; and he w^as hurrying to the house with 
his dog in his arms, when something brushed 
against his cheek. It was evidently a moth 
attracted by the electric light in the house. As 
he mounted the steps, it passed before him 
onto the piazza and alighted on the back of 
one of the rustic wood chairs. Roy, always a 


The Flower Babies 


235 


lover of the insect world, hurried up to see 
what species of moth it was; and then caught 
his breath with an exclamation of delight. 

Upon the outstretched wings sat a tiny 
fairy, smaller than the Princes of his ac- 
quaintance, and evidently but a boy in years. 
He was clad in white cloth, ornamented with 
silver braid; and it was easy to guess that he 
was the little page of some fairy household. 
As Roy stretched out his hand, the little fairy 
bounded from the moth and landed on one 
little, pink finger. 

He removed his cap with a bow of respect, 
and spoke in a voice so small that had it not 
been clear, the words would have been lost on 
the night breeze : “ I bring to you a message, 
if you are the friend of Prince Fay,” he said. 
“ I am,” Roy answered. “ Her Majesty,” 
continued the messenger, “ has graciously con- 
sented for you to be present when the cradles 
are opened. You must be out in the garden 
a few moments before sunrise to-morrow, but 
leave your little dog in bed. This time you 
will not need the aid of the dream fairies. 


236 Twilight Fairy Tales 


You shall see with waking eyes, so don’t over- 
sleep.” Before he could answer, Roy saw the 
great, soft- winged moth sweep past his hand, 
and the little figure was gone. 

“Roy! Roy!” came his father’s voice, 
“why are you dawdling? Don’t you know 
4 early to bed and early to rise makes a man 
healthy, wealthy, and wise’ ? ” — 44 All right, 
papa, I ’m going right up. You can be sure 
of one thing,” he added, 44 1 won’t dawdle to- 
morrow morning; I ’ll be 4 early to rise.’ ” 

It was, perhaps, the joy of his coming ex- 
perience that made him drop to sleep the 
moment his head touched the pillow; or was 
it that his friend, the Dream Queen, all un- 
seen, stole in on a moonbeam and kissed his 
eyelids, so that they just had to stay shut? I 
wonder if the same, kind fairy tapped gently 
on those little eyelids just fifteen minutes be- 
fore sunrise; or was it the far-away sound of 
fairy bugles that roused our little boy just at 
the right hour? 

The moment he opened his eyes, he was wide 
awake and out of bed. Tiny was still very 


The Flower Babies 


237 


sleepy; perhaps dreaming of delightful, red 
squirrels, always down on the ground and 
within easy reach. Anyway she made no de- 
mur at being tucked up and left to her 
slumbers. Very quietly and quickly, Roy 
dressed and tiptoed down the stairs. The un- 
locking and unbarring of the front door was 
soon accomplished, and then he stood out in 
the fresh, early, morning air. 

Oh! it was glorious. Every breath was like 
drinking in the elixir of life, and the stillness 
from the noise of a work-a-day world made the 
minstrelsy of the birds the only sound that 
broke the hushed expectancy of nature. 
There seemed to be a pause, a waiting and 
watching. In breeze and tree, in every leaf 
and blade, you felt and saw it. They were 
waiting and holding their breath, as it were, 
for the coming of the King. 

Away in the east already the dawn was 
painting yellow streaks and pink flushes on 
sky and cloud; and Roy, who knew that the 
rising of the sun was to be the fairy signal, 
hastened to ensconce himself in a big, rustic 


238 Twilight Fairy Tales 


chair close to the yellow tulip bed. Now his 
eyes and ears must be very alert to see and hear 
the little people. Had they already arrived, 
or were they coming in full force with the first 
ray of sunlight? 

He turned first to the largest bed on his 
right. No moving figures or bright colours 
there. Then to the pink tulip bed at his left 
hand, but there was nothing out of the com- 
mon. A little farther off was a crescent filled 
with red tulips. The buds looked very bright. 
They seemed almost to have caught the crim- 
son of the clouds, but no sign of life appeared. 
Roy sighed. Waiting is not amusing work 
for little boys; and though Roy was unusually 
patient for his age, he wanted something to 
happen and to happen quickly. 

Just then he felt a little prick on the back 
of his neck. Up went his hand to slap away 
the mosquito. Surely it was early for them 
to be at their tricks, but it could not be any- 
thing else. His searching hand felt nothing, 
but his ear caught the sound of a little laugh, 
silvery and merry, a laugh such as he had 


The Flower Babies 


239 


never heard save from the lips of his Prince 
Fay. Turning sharply, he caught the glint 
of a fairy sword that was evidently going to 
try the trick again, but was quickly sheathed 
when the fairy princeling saw he had been 
discovered. 

Yes, there he was, complacently seated on 
the back of the chair, his green velvet cloak 
jauntily thrown back over one shoulder, the 
humming-bird feather and the ruby which held 
it in place seeming to gleam with a fiery 
beauty born of the coming sunrise. “ Well, 
little boy,” he cried, “ what is the matter with 
your eyes to-day? You have been looking for 
fairies, and never saw one until I pricked you 
into noticing me.” — “ Oh ! I am so, so glad 
to see you, dear Prince Fay; but surely you 
and I are not going to watch the cradles open 
alone, are we?” 

Again came the ringing laugh. “ I should 
think not,” said the Prince. “ Why, the fairies 
are here, there, and everywhere; don’t you see 
them? It could most literally be said, ‘the 
woods are full of them.’” — “ O Fay, Fay I 


240 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


don’t tease so; just help me to see,” said poor 
Roy with a quiver in his voice. In a moment 
the fairy became all seriousness. “Yes, I 
will, Roy,” he said; “ now look over at the yel- 
low tulip bed; what do you see?” — “Green 
stems and yellow buds, and nothing else.” — 
“ Look again ; the lords and ladies in waiting 
are all in green; not a green like mine, but a 
pale, spring green, and they are very still, each 
one waiting for the signal.” 

Yes, there they were; now Roy saw them, — 
graceful, little figures clad in every tint and 
shade of the palest green, each one carrying a 
long wand of the same colour. From bed to 
bed, Roy’s eyes roamed quickly, and every- 
where stood, waiting and watching, the little 
green-clad lords and ladies of the fairy Queen’s 
household. 

The sky was growing red, as if a fire burned 
over in the far-away city on the horizon. The 
sound of swift wings beat the air. Roy 
glanced back quickly from the glorious sky to 
the green lawn. Bluebirds, blue- jays, robins, 
tanagers, and thrushes were disappearing into 







The Flower Babies 


241 


the trees and brush- wood; but the riders who 
had guided them were there in a splendid 
group, gathered around a central figure clad 
in dazzling golden armour, so bright that at 
first Roy thought his eyes were dazed by the 
rising sun. 

Prince Featherweight, Prince Russet, the 
Passion Flower Prince, and the Princess Fire- 
light were there, and many, many others with 
whom Roy had had no former acquaintance, 
dressed in every hue of the rainbow, glittering 
with gems, and, above all, so airy and graceful 
that it was a joy to watch them. Only a 
moment they stood expectant, and then the 
knight of the golden armour raised a bugle to 
his lips. Clear, sweet, and long rang out the 
notes of the reveille, just as the sun, like a ball 
of fire, leapt up in the east. 

At the sound of the bugle, every waiting 
fairy raised a wand and touched lightly a tulip 
bud. Slowly the petals — red, yellow, pink, 
and white — unfolded in bed after bed; and 
Roy, who had hurried closer, saw within each 
flower cup the tiniest, sweetest, pinkest baby 


242 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


that mortal could imagine. They were stretch- 
ing their arms and rubbing their eyes, and 
acting very much as little child babies do when 
they wake happy and contented after a sweet 
night’s sleep; and they might well be con- 
tented, these fairy babies, for the air was full 
of yellow sunshine, birds’ songs, and a fra- 
grance of their own, sweet cradles. 

Now every, little, green fairy caught up one 
wee babe, and with the princes and princesses 
looking on, they vanished, so swiftly that Roy 
was bewildered at their flight. True, he never 
saw so many swallows, swifts, and martins 
sweep over the lawn at once. Perhaps they 
were the fairy horses that carried away the 
wondering babies to the shade of the green 
woods. Then back came the larger birds, and 
with plumes waving and merry laughter, the 
brilliant group of watching fairies followed 
their friends, and even Prince Fay was gone 
before Roy had had time to voice one of the 
many questions that rushed to his lips, which 
the amazing swiftness of the pageant had for 
the moment silenced. 


The Flower Babies 


243 


It was very disappointing when mother 
came into the garden, just before breakfast, to 
hear her say, “ The beautiful, warm night and 
bright, morning sunshine have done their work 
well, and opened up all my tulips.” If only 
Roy could tell her and make her understand 
it all as he did. 

After breakfast a very sleepy, little dog 
crawled out of bed and came to seek her master 
in the garden. Into Tiny’s soft, silky ear Roy 
poured the wondrous story, and it received 
the keenest attention. He was rejoiced after- 
wards to see the intelligent little doggy snif- 
fing around the tulip beds with absorbed 
interest, to find fairy foot-prints, Roy, assured 
himself ; but if the truth were known, I fear it 
was squirrel tracks she was after; perhaps in 
memory of some fairy dream of her own, in 
which the chief actors wore fur and had long, 
bushy tails. 





ROY STARTS FOR 
FA I RYLAri D 











CHAPTER XY 


ROY STARTS FOR FAIRY-LAND 

J UNE had come, beautiful, sunny June; 

sweet with the scent of a myriad flowers ; 
glad with the thrill of bird love notes, and vi- 
brant with the buzz of bees. The crimson 
rambler had flung out long, trailing wreaths 
of gorgeous red, that arched over the doorway 
and stretched out long arms on either side of 
the piazza. It was a glorious frame of roses 
for the distant view. The fragrance of honey- 
suckle proved a magnet to both bee and but- 
terfly, and now and then a little ruby-throated 
humming-bird was seen for a moment poised 
in air, thrusting a quick, sharp bill into the 
blossoms only to vanish again like a flash the 
next moment. 

Roy was sitting at a table on the piazza, 
upon which were piled books, papers, pencils, 


247 


248 Twilight Fairy Tales 


ink, and all the necessary implements and ac- 
companiments of education. Miss Sloane oc- 
cupied the opposite chair, and her voice, urgent 
and monotonous, did not, to Roy’s thinking, 
blend well with the sounds of nature calling 
so loudly to his eager ears. 

Our little boy was well again. Lessons had 
been resumed, but because fresh air was con- 
sidered very necessary to renewed vigour and 
vitality, even his studies were to be pursued as 
much as possible away from the schoolroom. 
Roy was earnestly trying to give his mind to 
his work, and had shown, up to this particular 
day and hour, a most docile and patient dis- 
position; and even Miss Sloane had had to 
admit that he w r as a very good little pupil; 
but this was such a lovely day. Surely the 
air had never been sweeter. The sunshine 
seemed literally made of dancing, golden par- 
ticles, and the music of bird and bee was all 
attune to his singing heart. 

“ I beg your pardon, Miss Sloane, I don’t 
think I understand that rule; I cannot get it 
into my head. I know you have read it twice. 


Roy Starts for Fairy-land 249 

and I have tried to understand it clearly, but I 
simply cannot; and as for these figures, they 
are like so many ugly, little, black enemies. 
They seem to change and jump about just 
to muddle and perplex me.” 

At that point Tiny gave a spring, intending 
to catch an offending fly that had for some 
time been teasing her, but she only succeeded 
in startling Miss Sloane, and rolling her own 
fat, little body over onto the flower-bed that 
bordered the piazza. “ Really, my dear Roy, 
that dog must not be present at lesson time. 
Her movements are so sudden and startling, 
they quite upset my nerves. What did you 
say about the rule? Well, I will read it again. 
Please pay better attention.” 

It was during the re-reading of the rule for 
the third time that Roy noted the peculiar ac- 
tions of a ruby-throated humming-bird. The 
honeysuckle was on the other side of the piazza, 
and only a mantle of purple clematis Jack- 
manni brightened the side where Roy was 
seated. Why should a humming-bird come 
repeatedly to a flower that had no special 


250 Twilight Fairy Tales 

sweetness to attract it; and why should it 
hover so near Roy, despite the sound of human 
voices and the movements that might justly 
frighten that timid, little bunch of burnished 
feathers? 

All at once Roy’s heart gave a bound, and 
the exclamation, “ Oh, joy! ” burst unbidden 
from his lips. “ I am glad you see the point,” 
said Miss Sloane with a smile; but Roy was 
not thinking of the rule, and his sparkling 
eyes and smiling lips had nothing to do with 
the solving of arithmetical problems or the 
clearing of muddled thoughts. He was look- 
ing past Miss Sloane. She fondly believed 
his mind had grasped and overcome his diffi- 
culty, but in truth his eyes were looking 
straight into the face of his merry friend. 

Prince Fay had dismounted, sent his hum- 
ming-bird off, and was sitting on a big, purple 
flower in a most comfortable attitude. He 
nodded and smiled most cordially, but spoke 
no word. In fact he put his finger to his lips 
as a sign to Roy to keep silence. Just at that 
moment, fortunately for our little boy, the 


Roy Starts for Fairy-land 251 

preparation bell for lunch rang out insistently, 
and Miss Sloane was not made aware of his 
wandering attention. She hastened in to wash 
her hands, and to do sundry other things that 
needed much help from the mirror; and Roy 
had the coveted moment to interview his fairy 
friend. 

“ Prince Fay,” he said earnestly, “ I am so 
glad you have come. Next week we are going 
to the seashore, and I thought perhaps I 
should not get to see you again, and you prom- 
ised I should go to the woods some day and 
see real fairy-land, where you dance in the 
moonlight, and where your Queen, of whom 
you speak so often, holds court.” — “ My dear 
little boy, that ’s just what I Ve come about. 
To-night, when the twilight swallows up the 
glow of sunset, the Princess Firelight is to be 
married to her gallant knight of the passion 
flower, and all fairy-land will be there. I do 
not think my plea alone would have persuaded 
the Queen to grant you an invitation, but the 
sweet bride herself asked the favour; and I 
have brought with me your passport.” 


252 Twilight Fairy Tales 

So saying, the Prince slipped from around 
his waist a tiny ring. It looked very small 
to Roy, but was a very loose and awkward gir- 
dle for the Prince. It was of very fine gold, 
and proved the setting for a moonstone of 
wondrous beauty. Roy was about to slip it 
over the tip of his little finger, when Fay 
stopped him. “If you do that, my little 
friend, Tiny will probably swallow you, under 
the impression that you are a new kind of fly; 
why, you will shrink to fairy size so quickly 
that you will hardly be able to find yourself. 
Put it in your pocket; that’s right. Now 
listen carefully to my instructions. Come out 
onto the piazza and watch the sunset this even- 
ing. The moment the great ball of fire dis- 
appears behind the hill, enter the wood at the 
back of the house, go to the spot where you 
dug up the ferns last year for your mother’s 
rockery. Wait there for the messenger we 
shall send. When he arrives, slip the ring 
on your finger and mount. The ride will be 
long, but very swift, and you will not be away 
from home long enough to trouble your 


Roy Starts for Fairy-land 253 

mother. Farewell till we meet in fairy-land/’ 

A whir of tiny wings, a flash of green and 
crimson, and he was gone; but as Roy hurried 
in to lunch, he slipped his hand into his pocket. 
To assure himself that he was not dreaming, 
he touched again the magic, fairy ring. How 
the rest of that day passed, Roy would find it 
difficult to remember. He was too excited to 
sit still; too happy to keep quiet, and too 
anxious to be able to settle down to either play 
or work. Miss Sloane let him off from his 
afternoon lessons, as his flushed face and evi- 
dent inability to fix his mind on anything 
made her afraid that he was feverish, and 
might be developing another illness. 

How slowly the sun seemed to travel that 
afternoon! It appeared to have determined 
to stand still ; and Roy even imagined it might 
have gone on strike and refused to go to bed 
at all. Perhaps it wished to smile a golden 
blessing on the happy pair. At last, to kill 
time, Roy decided to give Tiny a bath. It 
would serve two purposes, he felt, — one the 
occupying of his own attention, and the other 


254 Twilight Fairy Tales 

in giving a good excuse for wrapping Tiny 
up and putting her to bed, which would most 
effectually keep that faithful, little shadow 
from following him into the woods; and Tiny, 
you see, had no invitation, so it would not have 
been proper for her to go. 

While Roy was engaged in soaping and 
scrubbing a pitiful, trembling, little black 
body, his mother came in. “ My darling,” she 
said, “ we are going to have afternoon tea 
early, and there will be some chicken sand- 
wiches for you. Your papa and I have to go 
to dine in the city to-night, and you can spend 
a long evening in the garden, and then have 
something to eat just before you go to bed, if 
you wish.” “Oh! that’s fine, mother,” ex- 
claimed Roy jubilantly; and mother went 
away wondering why it was fine, because 
generally there was an outcry against her 
being away at bedtime, or a very earnest 
plea to go too, whenever a visit to the city was 
spoken of. 

So it happened that tea was all over; mother 
and father away, and Tiny safely tucked up 


Roy Starts for Fairy-land 255 

in her own little bed ; when Roy, sitting on the 
piazza steps, saw the clouds flush rosy at 
the first sign of the approaching sunset. As 
the house faced the rising of the sun, he had 
to go half down the long stretch of lawn and 
take up his watch in a little arbour festooned 
with pink roses, where he could look back at 
the forest-clad ridge of hilltop behind the 
house. 

Slowly, but surely, the golden ball sank down 
behind the trees, flinging up flaming banners 
saffron, amber, and rose as a last flaunting 
defiance to the pale, still Queen of Night, al- 
ready visible in a pale green sky, coming to 
reign in the stead of the departing King of 
Day. The lights and colours were so beauti- 
ful that Roy, always a lover of nature and 
artistic by temperament, sat wrapped in ad- 
miring forgetfulness. Even his appointment 
in the woods was forgotten in the pageant of 
the rosy clouds and transfigured sky. 

The sun had vanished behind the hill a full 
two minutes before he realised it and sprang 
to his feet. Just as fast as his active, little 


256 Twilight Fairy Tales 

legs could carry him, he flew from the garden 
and took the forest path mentioned by Prince 
Fay. It was deep twilight there already, for 
the tall trees, with their overhanging, inter- 
lacing branches, shut out all view of the sky, 
now suffused by the primrose tints of the 
after-glow. Faster and faster flew Roy’s 
eager feet, and yet the mossy path never 
seemed so long or steep to him. 

At last he reached the spot, under an old oak 
tree, where great masses of fern grew from 
between grey lichen-covered rocks and gently 
tried to cover their ruggedness with a lacework 
of tender green fronds. Roy threw himself 
down panting, pillowed his head on a bank of 
soft moss, and listened to the thud, thud, thud 
of his heart-beats. When this sound had be- 
come slow and subdued, and he could breathe 
freely, he looked anxiously around for his 
promised guide. 

The forest was very still, and gaze as he 
would into every nook and corner in sight, no 
fairy messenger could be seen. “ Well, he ’s 
late, whoever he is. That ’s all there is to it,” 


Roy Starts for Fairy-land 


257 


exclaimed Roy with some petulance; “ and if 
I get there when it ’s all over, it will be some- 
body’s fault.” “Ha, ha! Ha, ha!” came a 
discordant voice from the green branches over 
his head. It was not fairy laughter by any 
means, and the harsh, hollow mirth wakened 
mournful echoes in the quiet wood. 

Roy felt a chill of fear, which was deepened 
as a dark, soft something cast a shadow over 
him, and even swept his face as it whirled past 
him in silent, ghostly flight. Roy shut his 
eyes tight, and before his mind rose wild 
fancies, with goblins, ghosts, vampires, and 
vultures mixed in a ghastly and somewhat in- 
congruous array. The next minute he heard 
a voice close beside him, talking in quite a 
natural tone. “ Late, indeed,” it said, “ I ’d 
like to know who ’s late. Why, I ’ve been 
waiting so long, I fairly fell asleep; and you, 
little boy, were at least two minutes behind 
your time.” 

The tone in which these remarks were ut- 
tered reassured him. This “ vampire ” could 
not be going to pounce on him right away. 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


258 

Besides, whoever the speaker was, he must be 
a person the fairies had trusted with the secret 
of his coming. Having comforted and reas- 
sured himself with this line of argument, Roy 
opened one eye, and after it the other, very 
wide, in sheer wonder. There, on a rock be- 
side him, sat a great, white owl, with wonder- 
ful, shining eyes, one of which it kept winking 
at Roy in the most rakish fashion. 

“ Come, little Master Shut-your-eyes-tight ; 
it ’s time we were off. I am your messenger 
and steed as well, and you would better hop up 
quickly, as I can’t sit here for you to catch all 
your scattered thoughts and collect them into 
some shape again.” “ All right,” said Roy, 
rising, “but my dear Mr. Owl, I ’m afraid I 
shall squash you if I sit down between those 
lovely, white shoulders of yours.” “ Well, well, 
well ! ” commented his owl-ship, rolling up his 
eyes in well-feigned horror and surprise, “ you 
must have scattered your thoughts pretty well 
all along the path coming here. Let me pick 
up at least one and return it to you.” In the 
funniest way imaginable, he grasped at the air 




Roy Starts for Fairy-land 


259 


with one yellow claw, and threw a handful of 
nothingness at Roy. 

Strange to say, immediately a thought 
sprang to his brain, — the ring ! That was what 
he had forgotten. It took but a moment to 
snatch it from his pocket and slip it over the 
tip of his little finger, and then in an instant 
the owl towered above him like a giant, and 
the fern fronds were as the branches of forest 
trees; while the grey rocks looked like mas- 
sive, rocky mountains. 









26 i 









CHAPTER XVI 


WEDDING BELLS 

W HAT a glorious ride that was! Roy 
felt as if he were seated on a throne of 
soft, white down. The great, sweeping wings 
were almost silent in their motion, and yet he 
could gauge the swiftness of their progress by 
the flying, twilight shades of the forest. Trees,, 
rocks, hills, valleys, streams, and little still 
pools of inky black water, with here and there 
a star-gleam breaking the surface, or a pale, 
pointing finger of moonlight shining through 
the deep foliage; all these things Roy saw one 
moment, only to lose them the next. 

On, on, on! He felt almost sleepy as the 
soft, warm air fanned his cheek, and the hum 
of night insects sang the sweet lullaby of na- 
ture. Then, with a downward sweep, the great 
bird landed, and Roy slipped off his back onto 

263 


264 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


a soft tuft of moss. “ Good-bye for the pre- 
sent, the white owl whispered, and vanished 
with a soft whir of wings, and Roy was left 
alone in the forest. No feeling of fear or 
loneliness came to trouble him now, for some- 
how he felt that his little friends were very 
near to him, and he was not wrong in his 
surmise. 

When his eyes became accustomed to the 
gloom, he saw the outline of a high, dense 
thicket just in front of him; and even as he 
looked, a long, double row of lights shone out, 
disclosing a little path cut through the very 
centre of it. He at once entered the path, and 
noted to his surprise that the lights w T ere glow- 
worms tethered to their places by silken cords. 
Overhead, where the thicket closed like the 
roof of a tunnel, fire-flies were poised, also held 
from flight by silken, gossamer threads. 

As Roy advanced, the path became very 
winding, and looking back he saw that the 
lights went out and the walls closed in behind 
him. Now the night sounds were suddenly 
hushed, as if some silent command had gone 


Wedding Bells 


265 


forth to all the insect minstrels ; and a moment 
later, clear, sweet, and silvery, rang out the 
notes of a fairy horn. Once, twice, three 
times, it sounded; and then the whole air was 
vibrant with the pealing of bells. Clearly and 
sweetly, with silvery cadence, they rang and 
jangled, sounding the whole scale of the 
chimes, — first slow, and like liquid drops of 
moonlight; then like a running stream, and 
then blending and clashing in a glad revelry 
of sound. 

Running at the top of his speed — and some- 
how his tiny feet seemed winged to-night — 
Roy pressed through the thicket and stood 
dazed and bewildered in fairy -land at last. He 
had entered the side door of a large and im- 
posing palace, built apparently of the most 
exquisite, white onyx, translucent save where 
the agate lines of rose and salmon colour shone 
through it. A splendid dome covered the 
great, central hall, while around three sides ran 
corridors like the old cloisters of a cathedral, 
the vaulted roofs of which were supported by 
slender, onyx pillars. 


266 Twilight Fairy Tales 


Right beside the main entrance, and occupy- 
ing the whole back of the great hall, ran a 
flight of steps leading to a great, golden 
throne. Crimson velvet partly covered them, 
but at the sides it could be seen that they also 
were of the precious metal. The floor of the 
hall looked like a hard, polished mirror, and 
reflected back the brilliance of the thousands 
upon thousands of electric lights that illumi- 
nated the whole palace. 

Looking for these lights, Roy discovered 
that nowhere could any glass globes be seen, 
but that the glow came from the hearts of 
flowers, with which the whole palace was most 
lavishly decorated. Here a tall background 
of white Madonna lilies, glowing with light; 
there wreaths of pale pink roses, diffusing 
delicate colour; and yet farther on, a golden 
glory bursting from masses of yellow orchids. 
Fountains played in the corridors, cooling the 
air and adding to the pealing bells the under- 
tone of tinkling waters. 

Again the shrill bugle-call! The golden 
doors flew back, and such a pageant entered 


Wedding Bells 


267 


as made Roy hold his breath in wonder. First 
came rank after rank of green-clad fairies, 
the knights dressed in velvet, the ladies in 
finest silk and gossamer. Emeralds glittered 
in their draperies and crowned their golden 
hair. Next came a great company in pale 
blue, jewelled with sapphires and turquoise. 
Again, rank upon rank in richest crimson 
wearing rubies; and after them tripped airy 
little creatures whose garments were soft as 
pink rose petals, and whose curly locks were 
crowned with pink coral. 

The fairies in yellow might well have had 
their clothing woven from the sunbeams, and 
the topazes they wore might have been fire 
imprisoned in crystal, so did they gleam. 
The company, whose purple velvet was soft as 
the cheek of a pansy, wore amethysts, and the 
gossamer gowns of their ladies might have 
been gathered from the shadows and mists on 
the distant hills of a summer night. 

When all these companies had formed them- 
selves in the great hall, it looked to Roy as if 
a piece of the rainbow had been caught and 


268 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


imprisoned in the palace. Now the clanging 
and pealing of bells ceased, and sweet music 
filled the air. A long aisle was left down the 
centre of the hall, and up it passed a queenly 
figure, followed by a troop of princes and 
princesses clad in cloth of gold. Her dress 
was of shining whiteness, and a royal mantle 
of crimson velvet trimmed with ermine fell 
from her shoulders. A diamond crown glit- 
tered upon her head, and the same costly gems 
gleamed and scintillated around her neck and 
from the folds of her robe. 

When she was seated, with her princesses 
around her, the bugle sounded again; and the 
gallant figure of the Prince of the Passion 
Flower, the bridegroom, who had once been the 
white knight of the snow-storm, came gaily up 
the aisle, attended by knights dressed in cloth 
of silver, with the purple mantles of their 
leader’s flower flaunting jauntily from their 
shoulders. 

A moment later, as the sounds of the wed- 
ding march filled the air, the sweet bride fol- 
lowed slowly, accompanied by a bevy of 



P/JPH AnDUniTEDTHElRHAMDS 





Wedding Bells 


269 


white-clad fairies. She, herself, was in the 
pure, bridal white of her birth flower, and her 
only adornments were pearls. They crowned 
her hair, fell in a rich rope around her waist, 
and even bordered the hem of her trailing 
robes. 

“ O, for a dozen eyes! ” thought Roy, as he 
watched, for there was so much to see; and yet 
he was almost too dazzled to be able to take it 
all in at once. 

The marriage ceremony took place on the 
steps of the throne, the Queen herself asking 
the questions of bride and groom, touching the 
ring with her sceptre, and uniting their hands, 
amid the cheers of the assembled throng. Then 
she told of the deeds of her brave knight, and 
of the true love of his fair lady,, and wished 
them lives full of usefulness, gladness, and 
sunshine. 

After that, amid music, laughter, and song, 
the whole company glided out into the forest; 
and Roy, who followed, saw that the moonlight 
shone bright on a great, green space, which 
was in fact the fairy ballroom. O, how they 


270 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


danced and danced! How sweet was the mu- 
sic! How light the fall of their fairy feet! 
It was then that Prince Fay, all resplendent 
in cloth of gold, sought out his little friend, 
and led him up to the fairy Queen. 

Her smiling eyes were full of kindly greet- 
ing, and the hand she laid on his shoulder was 
soft as the fall of a rose petal. “ Dear little 
boy,” she said, “ I am glad to welcome you, 
because you have come the right way to fairy- 
land, and my princes have told me that you 
have a loving, tender, gentle heart. 1 know 
that you love the flowers and the birds, the 
butterflies and all the lovely things of nature. 
If you did not, you could never find a fairy, 
and the secrets of our world would be a sealed 
book to you. When you grow to manhood 
and lose your child eyes, and have to look at 
life through the eyes of knowledge and experi- 
ence, you will still love the fairy-land of nature, 
and you will be a nobler, purer, truer man be- 
cause of it.” And then she stooped and kissed 
him, and he dropped on one knee and kissed 
her hand with as much chivalry as any of her 


Wedding Bells 


271 


knights or princes would have shown; and 
then Prince Fay led him away. 

Down the fire-fly lighted path they walked 
together, and out into the dark forest, where 
the insects were droning and shrilling in 
slumbrous harmony. Sitting solemnly asleep, 
they found the big, fluffy, white owl, who had 
to be awakened by a prick from Prince Fay’s 
sword, but laughed and hooted at the idea 
that he was napping when they charged him 
with the offence. With a farewell to the 
fairy friend, and a quick spring to his steed’s 
broad back, Roy was off and away, homeward 
bound, through moonlight and shadow, with a 
silent swiftness that was weird and thrilling. 

It seemed only a few moments before he was 
down again at the foot of the oak tree, and the 
owl had vanished once more, a moving shadow 
amid the shadows of the giant trees. It was 
late for a little boy to be alone in the woods, 
and he looked down the path with a rather 
frightened, quickly beating heart. What was 
that yonder in that patch of moonlight? His 
heart throbbed and then seemed to stop with 


Twilight Fairy Tales 


272 

horror, and he felt himself turn cold all over. 
Right in his path sat a monstrous beast. It 
was black as night and apparently as big as a 
house, with eyes that gleamed, and a great, 
red tongue that showed when it panted, and the 
panting was like the sound of a locomotive 
climbing a hill. 

Instinctively Roy raised his hand, as if to 
ward off this terror, and as he did so his eye 
caught the gleam of the moonstone on his 
finger. In a moment he had slipped the ring 
off, and it rolled away into the moss and 
shadows, while from his own former height he 
looked again down the path. In the place of 
the great, frightful beast that had sat barring 
his way, he saw the alert, little body of his own 
Tiny, and in a moment the faithful, little crea- 
ture was at his feet, whining with delight, and 
yet lying humbly down and looking guilty, as 
if she feared a scolding would be her welcome; 
but Roy was far too glad of company to 
scold, even though he saw suspicious marks on 
the paws and nose he had washed so carefully, 
which suggested that the doggy had employed 


Wedding Bells 


273 


her waiting time in trying to dig out chip- 
munks or rooting for buried bones. 

Very softly they crept up to bed together, 
and when mother came home, she found her 
boy sleeping soundly, with a warm, little, black 
body held tight in his arms, and such a happy 
smile was on his lips that she guessed his 
dreams must have carried him off to fairy-land 
again. 


FINIS 












By MAUD BALLINGTON BOOTH 


Jdorics 

With introduction by Chauncey M. Depew. Illustrated 
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Q. P. PUTNAJTS SONS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 



yairg Wnln anil yolfe Txm 


THE LIGHT PRINCESS 

and Other Fairy Tales. By George MacDonald. Illustrated 
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A True Account of the Home of the Fairy Tales. By Jane G. 
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G. P. Putnam’s Sons New York and London 



51)1}f ^flirg Eibrarg 


1 ENGLISH FAIRY TALES 

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Collected and Edited by Joseph Jacobs, President of the 
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